


The Snowball

by Angsty_gal



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Found Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-09-04 23:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 55,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16799065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angsty_gal/pseuds/Angsty_gal
Summary: A Feysand au in modern times following a similar storyline with a few twists."I was having a snowball fight outside and you were casually walking by and oh my god I'm so sorry I accidentally nailed youin the face."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a fic I've published on tumblr and fanfic.net so don't be alarmed if you've seen it there before, it's just been a few years since I started it and there were minor things I wanted to change and update now that the series is over and I've had time to reflect on characters.

“I was having a snowball fight outside and you were casually walking by and oh my god I’m so sorry I accidentally nailed you in the face”

The first decent snow for the holiday season had fallen and Feyre couldn’t even enjoy it because once again, Tamlin had business elsewhere to attend to. Sensing her dark mood, Lucien had arrived with supplies to build a snowman and suggested a snowball fight.

It had been fun chasing Lucien around Tamlin’s garden, hurling snowballs at each other until Lucien dodged one of Feyre’s most lethal throws, and it went hurtling straight into the face of a nearby man.

Rushing over, Feyre started quickly brushing off the bits of snow while the man’s two, very big, and very intimidating friends howled with laughter.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry I accidentally nailed you in the face!’ Feyre blurted, profusely apologising.

When the man cleared away the remaining snow clinging to his face Feyre immediately froze. Long, snow coated lashes and piercing, violet eyes met hers. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. And she had just hit him in the face with a gods damned snowball.

The man also seemed to freeze when he saw her, those violet eyes grazing up and down her body before resting on her face. A pleasant smile broke his stony stare.

They both seemed at once to notice Feyre’s frozen hands lingering on his chest from her attempt to brush away snow.

They both sprung apart.

“No it’s fine. It’s actually rather impressive you managed to hit me.”

Feyre fought the urge to roll her eyes as she turned away to head back to Lucien, already overcome with annoyance at the man’s over-confidence. But a light hand on her shoulder had her turning back to face him.

“On second thought my face does feel a bit bruised,” He teased. “But I know a way for you to make it up to me.”

A pause while he waited to see if she would take his bait.

Feyre glanced past him at his two friends who were staring at the back of his head, one with shorter hair in obvious shock, and the one with longer hair with amusement.

“The only thing bruised I think, is your ego. But sure, what could I ever do to make amends for my grievous mistake?’ Feyre played along.

"Meet me for coffee. I’ll even let you pick the place. Oh and my friends will not be invited.” He said, glancing behind him at the two males who were clearly trying to eavesdrop.

Before Feyre even had a chance to explain that she had a boyfriend, Lucien finally appeared, stepping directly between her and the man.

“She’s taken.” Lucien practically growled. “Go home Rhysand. And take your lackeys with you.”

The two males were immediately flanking Rhysand, violence in their gazes, but Rhysand merely tutted at Lucien before addressing Feyre.

“Such a pretty thing could do much better than you Lucien.”

Feyre could feel the embarrassment rolling off Lucien as he ground out through gritted teeth, “She’s not mine. She’s Tamlin’s.”

The two males exchanged dark glances while Rhysand chuckled.

“Well that does make things more interesting.” He said.

But Feyre bristled over the tone that Lucien was using. The way he said she was Tamlin’s. Like an object and not a girlfriend.

“I belong to myself. I just happen to be dating Tamlin. The two are not the same.” She spat at Lucien’s back.

But Lucien ignored Feyre, attention now snagging on the two males who seemed to be sizing him up. With Lucien preoccupied, Rhysand neatly stepped around him and prowled a few steps away. When he reached a distance out of eavesdropping zone he lifted an eyebrow at Feyre. Coming? It seemed to ask.

Giving Lucien a quick glance to make sure he wasn’t about to get into a fist fight, Feyre followed him, stopping inches away. Close enough to feel the heat of Rhysand’s warm breath.

“Don’t worry about them. Cassian and Azriel won’t start a fight,” He flashed her a predatory smile, “Unless of course I tell them to.”

“Make this quick. What do you want?”

Feyre knew she shouldn’t have even followed Rhysand. Even though he wore thick winter clothing she could tell he was powerful and well built. Tall too, around the same height as Tamlin. But the second he’d walked away Feyre knew she wanted to follow him, something deep down in her gut that told her to stay close to him.

“Well now you know my name, it’s only fair that I know yours.” He purred.

“Feyre. Feyre Archeron.”

“Well Feyre, I doubt you’ll be able to join me for coffee now, but I hope you’ll at least accept this.” He said, placing a folded up piece of paper in her hand.

Feyre unfolded it revealing his phone number, surrounded by twinkling stars. She tried to give it back to him, fear curdling her insides. If Tamlin found another male’s phone number on her, especially one that Lucien seemed to know and not like, it would not be a pretty argument.

Rhysand read the fear on her face like an open book. Instantly his face darkened with a calm and lethal fury.

“Does he scare you?” He asked quietly.

“No… Tamlin would never hurt me. But he wouldn’t like me having this.”

Feyre again tried to give it back to him, and again he refused.

“Keep it. Please. You may need it. I want you to contact me if you ever feel… unsafe.” His eyes shone with an unwavering promise.

Glancing at Lucien again, Feyre made sure he was still fiercely arguing with Cassian and Azriel before slipping the paper into an inner pocket of her jacket. Rhysand smiled before signalling to the two males.

“Well Feyre Darling, it was a pleasure to have been hit by your snowball. I look forward to it again in the future.” Rhysand said.

His grin turned into something more tentative, a small, shy, smile that Feyre knew he didn’t show people often, before he turned and stalked off.

The two males stormed past as well, the one with longer hair pausing to give Feyre a wicked grin and wink, before following his friends.


	2. Coffee shop au too? really girl? always yes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre meets someone we know at a coffee shop and gets offered a job.

Feyre woke up early that morning, the cold air seeming to find her even underneath her mountain of quilts. She stretched out sleepily seeking Tamlin’s warmth, only to find his side of the bed stone cold empty. Again.

She didn’t know why she was surprised. Already knowing when she opened her eyes there would be new paint, or canvas, or painting references, gifted for her at the end of the bed. This repetitive pattern had become her life, no matter how close it was to Christmas. Tamlin’s job was very important which Feyre knew all too well due to the constant lectures she'd received whenever she brought up to Tamlin her unease at him being away so much.

But Feyre could never push too hard. Complain too much. Because Tamlin was one of the most important people in her life, and he was also the man sending money back to her family a few towns over. Family who never came to visit, or ask where Feyre was getting all their money from, so long as she continued to send it. Even if her family wasn’t grateful for Tamlin, Feyre was. Which was why she was so sad about his constant disappearances.

Lying in bed all day left Feyre impatient and eventually she shrugged on an old hoodie of Tamlin’s and some fuzzy slippers, grabbing her car keys in search of some good coffee. Outside her old, but in surprisingly good condition, car sat waiting for her. Tamlin had gotten it for her from a “friend” he had claimed had no need of it and gave him a good price. Just another thing that Feyre was grateful for.

Driving slowly because of the recent snow, Feyre went looking for the closest Starbucks. Just a few blocks down she saw the line outside the coffee shop before the actual store. She parked nearby but the second Feyre stepped outside she knew it was too cold to wait around outside in line for a damn coffee, and she needed caffeine now.

Across the road she noticed a small and dark café advertising “hot coffee, better than those jerks at Starbucks” on a small chalkboard outside. The sign made Feyre laugh but more than anything, the lack of an outside line lured her in.

The shop was called ‘Coffee For Mor’ and Feyre wasn’t sure if there was a secret meaning she was missing out on but all of that was forgotten when she went inside. The place was dark with just enough lighting on each table for reading and plenty of concealed booths and couches plagued with a healthy amount of young people. The entire back wall had been painted with a chalkboard-like substance and had been decorated by customers with everything from cute little doodles, to crude drawings of… well doodles.

But best of all it was warm and smelt amazing.

Feyre was greeted by a beautiful and chirpy blonde haired woman at the counter.

“Morning! Bit cold today, hey? Felt like my nipples were gonna put holes in my shirt just walking to work!” The woman laughed.

Feyre’s taken aback look just made the woman laugh more.

“Haven’t seen you around in here before. What’s your order, and what’s your name?” She said sweetly, maybe trying to not scare Feyre out of the shop altogether.

“Um, I’m Feyre. And I’ll grab a large anything, as long as it’s got caffeine in it.”

“Feyre huh? You look like you could grab a large anything hey?” The woman said with a wink before outstretching her arm for a handshake, “I’m Mor. Nice to meet a new face.”

Feyre had to hold back her laugh as she shook Mor’s hand.

“so are you the owner of this place then?” Feyre asked, noting the familiar name.

“Yes Mam. Started this place with the help of my cousin although he never sticks around to actually help, the bastard,” Mor laughed. “Anyway, I’ll make you one of the house specials, just because I like you. It’ll be $5.”

Feyre started scrounging through her purse counting out small change, and re-counting it. $4.95 was all she had. She looked up to tell Mor to change her order but to her horror the drink was already in front of her in a take away cup, name on it and all, surrounded by a love heart.

“Uhm, I’m so sorry but I’m 5 cents short. Is it too late to ask for a medium?”

Mor looked her over skeptically with a raised brow, “No card?”

“Um no. My boyfriend normally just gives me cash when I need it, but he’s out of town right now.”

Mor looked her over once more. A hard gleam in her gaze. Feyre felt like she was about to be chased out of the coffee shop.

“Tell your boyfriend to let you have access to your own money whenever you want it. This one’s on the house. Don’t sweat it hun.”

“Oh my god are you sure? You can take all the change. It’s not my money anyway, it’s all my boyfriend’s,” Feyre said, pushing the heap of coins at Mor, only to have it pushed back into her hands.

“Seriously Feyre it’s fine. Consider it my condolences for your piss weak boyfriend. You shouldn’t have to rely on someone else for money, that’s when you lose your control,” Mor smiled sweetly.

Feyre accepted the money sheepishly, before taking a sip of her coffee. It was so good she actually moaned. Mor laughed.

“Now there’s a girl who loves her coffee. Say, why don’t you come work for me a couple times a week? I could use the extra help since my cousin keeps finding convenient excuses to skip shifts. Then you can have your own money,” She beamed.

Feyre paused for a moment in disbelief at this stranger's kindness. “Oh. Uhh. Thank you so much! It’s just I don’t think Tamlin, my boyfriend, would like that.”

At Tamlin’s name Mor’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Do, do you know Tamlin?” Feyre stammered.

Mor's forehead crinkled in thought before smoothing out and smiling reassuringly at Feyre, “Not really. Just heard of him. Now I really think you should take the job, just to piss off that tool.”

Feyre bristled slightly. If Mor didn’t really know Tamlin she had no right to make fun of him like that, especially with all that he had done for Feyre’s family. But it would be nice for Feyre to get out of the house and have her own money. She knew Tamlin loved buying her things. He would never deny her anything, money wise. but it wasn’t the same as having her own money.

Mor seemed to sense her hesitation, “All employees get free coffee,” she teased.

“Done.”

The two shook hands again, as the door was blasted open and a tall man shouldered his way inside, shaking snow off his boots. Feyre froze when violet eyes met hers from the open doorway.


	3. Are you stalking me?

Rhysand’s violet eyes widened in surprise before he regained his cool composure, trading in his shock for a smug grin and bedroom eyes.

“Feyre Darling, so glad we could meet again.”

“Are you stalking me?” Feyre demanded.

“I was just about to ask you the same, seeing as you are in my cousin’s coffee shop.” Rhys said while sauntering over.

He was so close Feyre actually took a step back so she was pressed up against the counter.

“Cousin?” Feyre asked, turning confusedly to Mor.

“Yep. We don’t look much alike thankfully.” Mor teased Rhys.

Rhys tore his eyes away from Feyre to glare at Mor, allowing Feyre a chance to breathe out and release some of her tension.

“Many people would kill for these looks Mor. You should be thankful we even share the same blood.”

Mor just laughed before reaching over to mess up Rhys’s hair. If Feyre wasn’t already in awe of Mor, she was now. Feyre got the impression Rhys wouldn’t just allow anyone to mess with him like that. Rhys quickly smoothed his hair back into place while shooting Mor a wicked grin.

“So I see you’ve met the beautiful and intriguing Feyre.” Rhys said casting her an appreciative glance.

“I see you’ve also met her. When were you going to mention that?”

Quietly Rhys responded, “I already did tell you about her.”

Mor snorted before saying, “Yeah but you didn’t mention she was Tamlin’s girlfriend, or anyone’s girlfriend for that matter.”

Rhys seemed to go rigid before giving Mor a warning glance, making Feyre wonder what exactly he had told Mor about their first meeting.

“Anyway," Rhys began quickly, "I’m being rude. What brings you here Feyre? And without a private escort from Tamlin’s security dog.”

“If you mean Lucien, he isn’t like that.”

“So you say, but it’ll only be minutes before he comes sniffing around after you.”

Feyre was about to retort back when she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. Rhys glanced at it with glee. Feyre just continued to stare him down, trying to ignore the phone.

“You’re not going to answer it?” He asked, a smirk already planted on his face.

“We’re in the middle of a conversation. I thought it might be rude.”

“Well despite how delighted I am that you find talking to me so enthralling, I really do think you should at least check who’s calling.” Rhys said with a grin.

Feyre turned red with embarrassment and then anger when she pulled out her phone and saw Lucien's name lighting up the screen. She tried to hide the screen from Rhys but from the humour dancing in his eyes, she knew he’d already seen.

Sighing, Feyre said to Mor, “I’ll be right back,” ignoring Rhys altogether.

Feyre walked away a few paces to sit in an empty booth before answering.

“Hello?”

“Feyre! Thank god. Where are you? I came past your house but you weren’t there.” Lucien seemed relieved to hear from her. Odd.

“Relax. I’m not on house arrest. I just went for a coffee and guess what? I got offered a job.”

A moment of pause while Lucien processed this.

“I don’t know about this Feyre. Where even is it?”

“It’s just a job at a coffee shop. It’s nearby. Not far at all. Lucien I just need to get out of the house sometimes. I can’t spend all day just waiting for Tamlin to come home from meetings. It’s driving me crazy.”

“What about your painting?”

“I can’t paint all day every day and you know it.”

Lucien let out a big sigh, “Alright. Tell Tam when I’m there though. I can help talk him into it.”

“Really? Thanks Lucien!”

Feyre hung up quickly before he could ask about who she was working for, because she doubted Lucien would help her if he knew her boss would be Rhysand’s cousin.

When Feyre walked back over to Mor, she noticed that Rhys looked a little red in the face, almost as if he had been arguing with Mor. When he noticed Feyre coming back over though, he plastered a smile back into place. But Feyre didn’t think she was imagining the way he said through gritted teeth, “So Feyre, Mor tells me she’s hired you to help out around here.”

Glancing anxiously between them Feyre said, “Yes… I could use the money and Mor said she could use the help, if that’s alright?”

Rhys’s face immediately softened. “You don’t have to ask me for permission if you want to earn your own money.” He said softly.

“Sorry. I know that you help run the shop too and we didn’t really ask you.”

“Feyre, while you’re working here know that while Rhys helped me start up the shop, I’m the boss. So don’t let him think he is. And Rhys that means no messing with Feyre when she’s supposed to be working.”

Rhys pretended to be offended but his taunts were too affectionate towards Mor to actually be real. When his phone rang though, Rhys turned serious and immediately excused himself. He went out the back of the shop waving to Mor and shooting Feyre a wink before disappearing behind a wooden door.

Mor turned her attention back to Feyre, “So when can you start?”


	4. The Tool

There was an almost visible tension that night at dinner. Tamlin had come back from some out of town meeting and talked with Lucien all afternoon in his office, which Feyre was not permitted to enter. When they had emerged, Tamlin was clearly in… a mood.

Feyre ate her dinner politely in silence while Lucien kept his eyes trained on his own plate.

Eventually Tamlin cleared his throat. “So, Feyre. Lucien tells me you’ve been offered a job.”

Feyre shot Lucien a betrayed look to which he met with a grimace and refused to meet her glare.

“I didn’t just get offered a job.”

“Oh?” Tamlin asked swirling his wine glass.

“I accepted a job.”

Tamlin’s face darkened and Feyre wasn’t sure if she imagined the sound of a tiny crack emitting from his wine glass, perhaps from him gripping it too tightly. Lucien desperately tried to look like he wasn’t in the room as his eyes implored Feyre to take things slowly.

“You don’t even know how to make coffee.” Tamlin scoffed.

“I can learn.”

“You’ve never had a job in hospitality before.”

“It’ll be refreshing.”

At that Lucien laughed. “Tam if she wants to learn how most people treat workers in the food industry I think it would be a great learning opportunity.”

Lucien was trying to make it sound like something Feyre would drop when she realised how hard it was to work in food and hospitality, helping as best he could in his own way. Even if he didn’t realise how deadly serious Feyre was.

Tamlin, with great care, placed his glass on the table and set his hands in his lap. But not before Feyre saw how they trembled.

“Are you unhappy here Feyre?” Tamlin asked too quietly.

Shock flashed across Feyre’s face. She had not considered how hurt this would make Tamlin feel. She reached her hand across the table to brush his arm soothingly.

“No, it’s not that Tam. I am happy. I just need something to do when you’re not around. I miss you.”

“I can’t help my job Feyre.” Tamlin said, still with hurt in his eyes.

“I know! But I go crazy being cooped up in this house all day. Tamlin please. This isn’t me being unhappy with you. I’m not acting out. I’m just… bored.”

“Do you think I’m not providing you with enough?”

Feyre held in a low indignant sound at how stubborn he was being. “It’s not about the money. It’s about the freedom.”

Feyre waited as Tamlin seemed to mull this over. When Feyre went to speak again Lucien gave a pointed cough, followed by a warning glare. So Feyre waited in silence while Tamlin decided on whether she would be allowed to work.

“Lucien drives you there, and back home after every shift.”

Feyre blinked once. Then twice. She was overjoyed and annoyed all at once. She was allowed to work, but as Rhys put it, she would have a guard dog escort her to shifts like she couldn’t be trusted. But Feyre knew it was more likely that Tamlin just wanted her to be safe and to know where she was.

At her hesitation, Lucien started nodding encouragingly at her from the corner of her eye.

“Okay.”

“That’s settled then. Now moving on-”

“Lucien doesn’t come in to my work though. Ever.”

“Excuse me?” Tamlin asked, his mouth forming a thin, perfect line.

Feyre tried to calm her breathing as both males looked at her in confusion. “My work has to remain mine. Just like your work is your own business. I don’t want other staff thinking I have a crazy stalker or have to be walked to and from work.” Feyre paused delicately, "Or that Lucien and I are dating."

Lucien practically choked on his wine while Tamlin's eyes narrowed on him. 

Feyre couldn’t risk having Lucien waltzing in whenever he felt like it. It would be disastrous for him to enter and see Mor was her boss, let alone if he opened the door to see that Rhysand, was not only a frequenter of the shop, but also a part owner.

Feyre waited anxiously in silence while she waited to see if Tamlin's protective, or jealous side, would win out. Eventually, Tamlin nodded. Albeit a very stiff, and singular nod, but it was a nod. He stood, shoving his chair away from the table with enough force for it to hit the wall behind it and Feyre recoiled.

“Lucien, you should congratulate Feyre on her new job.”

Lucien wisely remained silent, barely daring to breathe as Tamlin continued.

“Congratulations Feyre. I hope you can finally find freedom in your life, something that I can apparently not provide. Not like the way I provide for you or your family of course.”

And with that he stormed out of the room. Lucien winced at the sound of Tamlin’s heavy footsteps ascending the stairs to their bedroom.

“Congratulations Feyre. Now we’re both in trouble.” Lucien said with sad smile.

“Don’t act like this is my fault.” Feyre hissed.

“Well… it is?”

Feyre huffed. “Please. He’s been in a mood ever since he got home.”

“Yeah. Because I told him about your little job hunting scheme.”

“I didn’t go out with the purpose of getting a job.”

Lucien carefully studied her. “Now that I can believe. So who is your boss anyway? Odd that they’d offer up a job to just anyone who came in to their shop.”

Feyre squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “She was just a nice lady who thought I could do with some honest work.”

“Okay, yep." Lucien said sceptically. "And what would this nice lady’s name be?”

“Morgan.” Feyre quickly replied. Because honestly, Feyre assumed ‘Mor’ had to be some sort of nickname.

Lucien didn’t appear satisfied but dropped the issue. His whole body still seemed stressed to Feyre however, as she came to sit next to him.

“Lucien. What’s going on?”

He sighed, running a hand through his long, red hair. “Tamlin’s being offered a great development deal by some big company.”

“Well, that’s good isn’t it?”

“Yeah it’s good. Too good to be true. Tamlin thinks not all the details are being brought up on purpose.”

“What’s the company?” Feyre didn’t know much about what, or how, Tamlin made his money. According to Lucien it was through dabbling in all sorts of investments, but she might have heard of the company in recent news.

“It’s a building company called Hybern.”

“Never heard of them.”

“They buy land and put up housing, businesses, buildings, basically whatever they want. As long as it makes money. Usually at the cost of people living nearby or the environment.”

“And they want to buy up land around here using Tamlin’s money?”

Lucien smiled grimly. “Something like that. Feyre, listen just do us all a favour and don’t bring it up, okay? You’ve done enough damage for one day.”

And with that Lucien left Feyre alone at the dining table.


	5. Chapter 5

Feyre had been working for a few weeks at Mor’s coffee shop now. She worked most days when Tamlin was home, and every day when he was out of town for business. Mor loved having Feyre around to laugh with and had even told her last week that her coffee making skills had considerably improved. But Mor would still politely refuse when Feyre offered to make her a coffee. 

It was long hours, and the morning rush could be hectic at best, but Feyre enjoyed the challenge and it occupied her lonesome thoughts. When Tamlin was home he would disappear into his study for hours, or be lost in his own thoughts when they decided to go out places for dinner. Feyre didn’t want to talk to him about his work though, as she knew it would just worsen his mood and he had made it very clear he hated talking about work with her. 

Feyre had walked into the cafe one morning to see Mor attempting to decorate their specials board with crude attempts at stick figures. Feyre hadn’t meant to laugh but it caught her by surprise.

“I know I’m not very artistic but you know it’s bad when even your stick men get laughed at.” Mor huffed.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed but … does one of them have two heads?”

Mor sighed, “No, it was supposed to be a Christmas hat.”

Hesitantly Feyre reached for Mor’s chalk, “May I?”

Mor looked surprised but handed the chalk over. She left to keep setting up chairs and tables while Feyre drew. She had a number of paints and canvas’s at home but she hadn’t felt any desire to paint lately, but Feyre got lost in her own drawing and hadn’t even noticed Mor peering over her shoulder.

“Oh my god it looks fantastic!” Mor squealed, making Feyre jump.

Feyre looked it over once. It wasn’t that amazing. Done with cheap chalk and in just a few minutes, but it passed for a Winter wonderland scene with snowflakes, reindeer, and people huddled around a fire holding cups of steaming coffee. From then on Mor always got Feyre to decorate the boards after she had written on them.

Mor would sometimes leave Feyre alone for a few hours when it was quiet so she could run some errands and the trust Mor had in her blew Feyre away. Even if she wasn’t always left by herself. Most days Mor’s friends frequented the store such as Amren, a small but wicked looking woman who awed Feyre, but also made her want to avoid eye contact. Amren was nothing but friendly towards Feyre and would always leave her an especially big tip so Feyre made an effort to make small talk. Amren owned her own jewellery store where she made her own accessories and was an old friend of Mor and Rhysand’s family.

Rhys’s brutish looking friends, Cassian and Azriel, were also usually hanging around the shop. Their favourite table was hidden away in a dark corner where Azriel would all but vanish in the darkness. But since Feyre had started working, Cassian would drag Azriel to tables that were closer to the counter so they could talk. Despite their imposing looks, Feyre found both of them to be quite friendly towards her and it wasn’t long before she found herself smiling before they had even entered the shop as she could always hear their booming voices approaching from halfway down the street. They ordered the same thing every day, just a black coffee for Azriel, no sugar. And Cassian always had the most expensive and extravagant drink on the menu, whipped cream topped coffee, complete with chocolate and caramel syrup. 

Rhys had so far kept his distance.

One morning after Lucien had dropped Feyre off for the day, Mor had been telling Feyre about an awful customer she had once had when the door swept open. Mor stopped mid sentence to beam at whoever had just entered. Feyre had her back to the door but she knew who it was was from the intensity of the gaze she felt was trained on her back.

“Well look who finally decided to come and check up on his shop.” Mor teased.

“You know I’ve been busy Mor. As I’m sure you’ve also been, training Feyre to make coffees that surpass even your own.” Rhysand purred.

Mor scoffed, “Who told you that?”

“Cassian.”

“Next time I’m locking him outside in the cold.” Mor laughed despite her icy tone. “Seriously though, are you just passing through or staying for a bit?”

Rhys sighed, “I think I need to just sit down and clear my head. Wanna make me one of your famous coffees?”

“Coming right up!” Mor smiled.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Rhys said, before flashing Feyre a grin and taking his seat.

“How tragic. Disowned by my own cousin.” Mor said shaking her head. “He likes a cappuccino with two sugars.”

Feyre worked at the machine alongside Mor as she made other orders but Feyre could feel that violet gaze fixed only on her.

“How come Rhys hasn’t been around? Cassian and Azriel are always here.” Feyre asked Mor quietly.

“I think he’s just been really busy lately. He gets restless when he’s stressed so I doubt he wants to hang around here all day.” Mor replied as she turned on the coffee grinder.

The loud machine drowned out most sounds making Feyre nearly having to yell for Mor to hear her.

“Is it work related? The stress I mean.”

“Sort of. He works also as a spokesperson and representative for the Illyrian community, making sure no one treats them badly.”

Feyre hadn’t had much experience with the large community of Illyrians in town, as she had only recently moved there to be with Tamlin.

“Have people treated them badly in the past?” Feyre ventured.

“Oh Feyre, I wish I could say people in this town weren’t discriminatory but the world just isn’t like that.”

“I’ve never heard of Illyrians.”

“Well you live with Tamlin right? He lives in the flashy part of town, the opposite end to the Illyrian people so you probably haven’t ever seen them.”

Feyre finished making Rhysand’s coffee and moved to bring it out to him when Mor added, “He’s fussy about his coffees. Sometimes I have to remake them a few times before he’s satisfied, so don’t feel bad if he doesn’t drink it.”

“If he complains we’ll see how much he likes hot coffee poured in his lap.” Feyre said, before freezing. Mor had turned the coffee grinder off just as Feyre had started to respond allowing Rhys to hear every word.

His violet eyes began twinkling at her from his seat across the room, a dare shining in them. Deciding to play it off, Feyre continued on her path to Rhys and set the coffee down before him, arching her eyebrow in a challenge.

Rhys grinned up at her before painstakingly slowly lifting the cup towards his lips. Feyre watched in anticipation and nearly screamed when he suddenly placed the coffee back on the table, untasted.

“It’s a little hot. I think I’ll wait for it to cool. Thank you.” Rhys said while giving her a cocky grin.

Swallowing her annoyance, Feyre marched back behind the counter with a grimace. Mor only laughed, before handing Feyre some new orders.

A few coffees later and Feyre looked up as an empty cup was set on the counter. She looked up to see Rhys gazing at her thoughtfully.

“… Was there anything else I could help you with?” Feyre asked, suddenly remembering that for all his jokes, Rhys was technically her boss.

“You changed my coffee order.” Rhys said without any hint of emotion on his face.

Mor, who had been out the back gathering more stock, suddenly reappeared and miserably failed at looking like she wasn’t eavesdropping.

“I tried a different blend. Mor’s been encouraging me to experiment.” 

Feyre felt the back of her neck dampen with sweat as Rhys failed to respond, only staring at her mutely.

“Did you like it? I can make another if you didn’t. I’m sorry, I know you like it a particular way-” Feyre babbled before Rhys cut her off.

“It’s okay. I liked it. Could you make me another?” Rhys asked, almost shyly. “Please?” He added as an afterthought.

Feyre nodded unable to speak she was so relieved. Rhys moved back to his table while Mor swooped in on her.

“That was incredible, you even got him to use his manners! I didn’t even see you change up the beans.” Mor gushed.

But Feyre had already begun making a new coffee and wasn’t really paying attention to Mor.

“He always asks about you.” Mor said quietly.

Feyre froze.

“Nothing weird, just asking how you’re going at work. If you seem happy.” Mor continued quickly, sensing Feyre's discomfort.

Feyre said nothing as she went to take out the next coffee to Rhys. He smiled again at her as she placed it down and this time drank from it immediately. Mor watched them from the counter, an odd look on her face.

Over the next few days Rhys would come into the store and ask Feyre to make him a coffee. Sometimes he stayed to chat with her or Mor, other times he would have to leave quickly. Cassian and Azriel asked to try the special coffee that Rhys kept having but neither of them seemed to like it. When Amren asked to try it, she all but spat it back in the cup with an apologetic look at Feyre afterwards, “Sorry, I guess everyone likes their coffee differently.”

Feyre never made Rhys’s coffee for anyone else from then on.

One morning, Rhys was sitting in his usual spot by the counter where he could talk, and more often, tease Feyre, when Mor rushed in.

“I’m sorry I’m so late Feyre! Everything’s been okay?” She asked, blowing long strands of hair out of her face.

“It’s fine, everything’s been going good today except for this weird guy who keeps trying to talk to me.” Feyre laughed while motioning at Rhys.

Rhys just winked and said, “I can’t start my morning without a coffee and your sweet face anymore, Feyre Darling.”

Feyre responded with her usual, “Prick”, before turning away to serve a customer.

“She seems to have warmed up to you.” Mor said breezing past Rhys.

When there was no longer any people to serve, Rhys joined Feyre and Mor at the counter. He was staring at the specials board which still showed part of Feyre’s Winter wonderland scene and now also had a drawing of a coffee with a Santa face dusted in the foam.

“Now, I know you didn’t draw this Mor.”

“First of all, I’m offended you think I have no artistic skills. Second, I’m impressed with how well you know me. Feyre is our resident artist.”

Rhys's eyes widened in surprise before turning to appraise Feyre. “You’re very good, ever think about doing an arts degree?” He asked her.

“I have… but I don’t really think it’s for me.” Feyre said quietly, pretending to be focused on wiping down the coffee machine so she wouldn't have to make eye contact.

“Why not? You clearly have the talent for it.” Rhys insisted.

“I already told you, I can’t. It's just not for me.” Feyre said angrily.

She turned from him and went to clear some dirty tables. When she returned Mor and Rhys abruptly stopped their conversation.

“Well I’m going to go do a stock order. Feyre do you think you could update the specials board? Thanks!” Mor said chirpily before disappearing out back.

Fear seized Feyre as she wiped clean the board silently. Rhys hadn’t said anything since she’d finished cleaning, and she didn’t appreciate the way his keen eyes watched her. Feyre held up the chalk just inches from the board, her fingers tracing letters in the air, but couldn’t bring herself to actually write anything.

“What’s wrong?” Rhys asked, concern tingeing his voice.

“Nothing. I just don’t feel like doing this right now.” Feyre was horrified to feel tears beginning to well up.

Now Rhys seemed really concerned. “Feyre?” He asked. “Are you okay? Talk to me.”

Feyre couldn’t even look at him she was so embarrassed. She fought with herself for what felt like hours. On one hand she wanted to tell Rhys about her biggest weakness. But on the other, she knew she could be mocked for it or even worse, lose her job over it. And Feyre did not want to stop seeing her friends.

She almost said nothing. Almost brushed it off with an excuse. But when she looked up at Rhys’s face, his eyes were so open and trusting. Nothing but understanding touched his gaze and Feyre knew he had already guessed as much.

“I can’t read.”

Rhys nodded as if he knew all along. “Does Tamlin know?”

“Yes.”

“And he never thought to teach you? Or get someone else to?” Now there was anger laced in his words. It instantly made Feyre recoil.

“It’s not like that. I’ve never really had to learn. And it’s not like I’m completely stupid, I’ve memorised a few basic words. I just have trouble writing and spelling them out myself.”

Rhys paused, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he stared intently at her.

“I’ve upset you. I’m sorry, I don’t think you’re stupid at all.” Rhys quickly apologised.

There was an awkward silence before Feyre spoke again. “I had only just started school when my mother died. My father lost everything to his grief. I dropped out of school to help out around the house. I did paper rounds to get money for food.”

“Where is your family now?”

“A few towns over. When I met Tamlin he wanted me to move in with him almost immediately but I couldn’t leave my family alone. So Tamlin promised they’d be looked after if I went with him.”

“Is that why you can't apply for college?”

Feyre nodded.

Rhys pondered this. He started saying something before dropping it entirely. Taking a deep breath, he tried a different tactic. “First, let me say that I think you’re incredible for putting your family over your own education. And while it makes no difference to me, and it doesn’t change who you are, but if you’d like, I could teach you.”

Feyre was speechless. To her, providing and looking after her family had been second nature. No one, not even her own father or sisters had ever really thanked her for it. And while it had never caused her any regret, Feyre had always hated that small illiterate part of herself. She owned a phone but could barely use it. She had a job, but only because it consisted of little reading. It was this that made her reach for Rhys’s hand to shake.

“Deal.”

Rhys held her hand for just a little longer than was necessary but it didn’t feel odd to Feyre at all.


	6. Chapter 6

When Feyre got home that night she was surprised to see Tamlin’s car already in the driveway. She looked quizzically at Lucien who only returned her puzzled glance. Whatever was happening, even Lucien didn’t know.

When Lucien held the door open for her, Feyre almost smacked into a man who had just been about to leave. Feyre hastily apologised while Tamlin's hand reached out and gripped her wrist, tugging her to his side quickly.

“Ah Feyre, there you are. I was just telling Mr Hybern about you.” Tamlin beamed while snaking a protective arm around Feyre’s waist.

The man turned black, calculating eyes on Feyre, appraising her. In turn Feyre appraised him. He was middle aged, but his eyes showed a level of cunning far beyond his years. He wore a smart suit that hinted at wealth but also practicality. His dark hair was kept long, unlike most business men Feyre had known to come to the café, and swept back with fancy hair product that had an overall greasy, smooth effect.

“She is quite something Tamlin, I am surprised you took so long to introduce us.” Hybern held out a hand to Feyre but something in Feyre knew she didn’t want to touch this man.

Tamlin lightly squeezed her hip to get her to move and she quickly shook Hybern’s hand at his insistence.

“Would you like to stay for dinner now that Feyre is here?” Tamlin asked him.

“While I would love to get to know the lovely Feyre a bit better, I think it is time for me to go. I have spent too much time here already.” And with one last calculating look at Feyre, taking in her harsh glare and Tamlin’s protective grip on her, Hybern moved past Lucien without even a glance.

After the door closed Lucien rounded on Tamlin, “What the hell was that about? Why was he here?”

Tamlin rubbed the bridge of his nose and ushered Feyre into the dining room, ignoring Lucien completely. Once they were all seated Tamlin explained that Hybern had become so interested in the area he had moved to town to see his plans through.

“What plans?” Feyre interrupted.

“Nothing that concerns you.” Tamlin replied soothingly.

Lucien looked on disapprovingly but his stance was already one of defeat. Feyre knew Lucien had already given up on trying to convince Tamlin to tell her more.

“Did you not like Hybern?” Tamlin asked her.

“Do you?”

“It doesn’t matter if I like him or not.” Tamlin said in annoyance. “He is being very generous and allowing me to be part of a huge business proposition.”

“I don’t like this Tam.” Lucien said.

Tamlin flashed Lucien an annoyed glare. “I don’t want to hear it right now Lucien. I think it would be best if you left me and Feyre to dinner now.”

Hurt flashed across Lucien’s face. Dismissed like a dog instead of a friend. Feyre gave Lucien an apologetic smile before he stalked from the room, the slam of the front door rattling the silverware and glasses on the table.

“He’s just trying to help.” Feyre defended Lucien immediately.

Tamlin growled. “So now you’re defending him?”

“Only when you're being an unreasonable ass.”

“What?”

Feyre knew she had crossed a line now. She had never talked to Tamlin this way before. She looked down at the table in shame, unable to respond or even apologise.

“Who have you been hanging around, to make you talk to me like that?” Tamlin demanded.

“No one! It’s just you don’t tell me anything. You push Lucien away. There’s so much going on here that I don’t understand. I just want to help you.”

“You can’t help me. Not with this. Is it too much to ask that my girlfriend trust me? That she waits patiently for me to get home instead of running herself into the ground at a coffee shop." Tamlin stopped abruptly, giving her a sideways look, "Or is it something more than that Feyre?”

His stare held something dangerous in it and suddenly Feyre felt afraid. He knew something, Feyre just didn’t know what, and if she wasn’t careful she would let on more than he knew.

“What are you talking about?”

A beat of silence passed, Tamlin staring hard at her and clearly waiting for her to confess. When it was apparent she would not speak Tamlin sighed and shook his head, “Rhysand.”

Feyre’s heart plummeted and she couldn’t keep the fear off her face. Tamlin’s face shone with rage at his correct guess.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He demanded.

Feyre couldn’t bring herself to speak. One wrong word and she had no doubt Tamlin would be paying a visit to Rhys, or even worse Mor, at the shop.

“He didn’t threaten you did he?”

Now Feyre was confused. “What?”

“Lucien told me he came past with his thugs a few weeks ago. He also said he left you alone with Rhysand for a moment. He was dealt with but that doesn’t matter. I just want to know if you’re okay.”

Feyre sagged with relief. This wasn't about the coffee shop at all.

“It was nothing. I accidentally hit him with a snowball and I apologised. Nothing more.”

“He wasn’t mad at you? He’s a dangerous man Feyre. He’s just lucky I wasn’t there that day.”

“No! It’s fine Tamlin honestly. Rhys laughed it off.”

Feyre knew her mistake immediately.

“Rhys?”

Without warning, Tamlin flipped the table. Food and cutlery flew from the table. Feyre stumbled back but not before the falling table trapped one of her legs, pinning her to the floor amongst broken cutlery and glass. It didn’t hurt much, but Feyre was terrified of what Tamlin would do next. She flinched when he crouched down next to her, regret etched all over his face.

“Feyre I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” He said while pulling the table off her.

Feyre rubbed her leg where she could already see a large bruise forming. Tamlin stroked her hair while murmuring to her about how sorry he was. Feyre started shaking at some point and Tamlin pulled her into his lap to calm her. When she had calmed down he whispered again how sorry he was while kissing her on the lips tentatively. Feyre felt numb and allowed him to hold her and kiss her, but she felt none of it.

The next day Feyre sat awkwardly next to Lucien on their drive to her work. Lucien said nothing about last night but he kept glancing down at her bruised leg despite her wearing long pants. Tamlin must have told him after they got back from the hospital. Feyre insisted it was just bruised but he still carried her to the car and took her to the emergency room just in case anything was broken.

He had told the nurse the table fell on her accidentally.

As Feyre went to get out of the car Lucien looked like he wanted to say something before he shook his head as if to clear the thought entirely.

Feyre entered the dim coffee store. Mor had allowed Rhys and Feyre to go in early so he could start her reading lessons before her shifts. She noticed Rhys standing at the back of the store staring at the now empty back wall. All the decorations that had adorned it littered the floor space.

“Is this a decoration class or reading class?” Feyre joked.

Rhys spun immediately at the sound of her voice. “Oh trust me, you’ll like what I’ve done with the place Darling.”

As Feyre made her way towards him she noticed his eyes narrow as he saw her slight limp. Feyre made a better attempt to conceal it, nearly wincing as she tried to walk normally.

“What’s with the peg leg, pirate?” He asked with no hint of humour.

“I always knew I was clumsy, sometimes life just likes to remind me.” Feyre joked.

“May I see?”

“No.”

“Feyre I just want to make sure you can still work. Protecting my fine establishment and investment in you and all that.”

Sighing, Feyre rolled up her pant leg to reveal the black and blue bruise across her calf. It had swollen up noticeably since last night. Rhys moved to touch it and Feyre recoiled. Rhys cleared his throat uncomfortably as if sensing he was about to cross a line.

That was when Feyre looked up and noticed the wall paint was different. It had always been a dark colour but now the texture of it was different. On the ground sat a huge bucket of chalk.

“Is this…”

“A giant chalkboard.” Said Rhys beaming.

Feyre reached out a hand to touch the rough texture of the wall. “How?”

“Just a certain type of paint. Would you like to try it out?”

Feyre grinned and went to pick up a piece of chalk, fingers already itching to draw.

“Not just yet.” Rhys said as Feyre pouted. “You can draw and cover this wall as much as you like. After our lessons. For now, this wall is going to be for you to practice your letters and spelling.”

Feyre agreed that it was a fair trade and so began her lessons with Rhys. By the time Mor arrived, Rhy’s dark clothes had smudges of chalk in various places almost as if someone had thrown chalk at him with some force, but Mor knew better than to comment. She began to set up the store while Feyre received instructions from Rhys, smiling to herself every time a small argument broke out or Feyre called her cousin a prick.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for being patient, sorry about the delay.

Tamlin was ever so apologetic about the table incident, which was never mentioned again. Although, new presents would arrive daily. One morning it would be paints, the next a pretty dress, new shoes, a painting. Whatever Tamlin thought would win back Feyre’s affection. Christmas passed with even more expensive gifts heaped upon Feyre, but the gifts that had meant the most to her had been on Christmas Eve after finishing her shift at Mor’s.

Mor had invited her friends around to close the shop early and have what she called a ‘family’ dinner. Feyre sat in between Amren and Mor, and opposite Rhys. She had managed to make Amren laugh which Feyre considered a great feat, and teamed up with Cassian to tease Rhys for most of the night. Rhys pretended to be offended, but Feyre could tell he was secretly pleased that she was getting along with his friends.

After dinner they had brought out presents which surprised Feyre, as she had not gotten anyone a gift, besides Mor, as thanks for employing her. Feyre had painted for her the dark interior of the shop with snow falling softly outside the window as people crowded to get in. Mor had hugged Feyre and proudly hung up the painting on the wall behind the counter.

To Feyre’s horror, the gang had all gotten her a present each.

“But I don’t have anything for you.” She said sadly.

“We didn’t expect it of you, but we wanted to show you that you’re one of us now.” Cassian smirked, while pushing his box closer so she would open it first.

A bit timidly, Feyre unwrapped a pair of boxing gloves. She held them up quizzically.

“But I don’t know how to box?”

“That’s why I’m going to teach you.” Cassian beamed.

“Cass is a personal trainer, one of the best really.” Mor offered.

Feyre cast a suspicious look at Rhys who had his head down studiously staring into his coffee that Feyre had made for him. She couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t entirely bought her stories about the bruise on her leg, the stories she came up with for the new ones on her arms that had appeared two nights ago.

Next, Feyre unwrapped a beautiful necklace from Amren. It was a silver chain with dozens of small diamonds suspended from it, twinkling like tiny stars as they caught the light. Somehow, the necklace meant more to her than all the expensive jewellery that Tamlin had bought for her. Then Feyre felt bad for not appreciating his thoughtful gifts as much as the people Feyre had barely known for a few months.

“Do you not like it Feyre? I knew I should have gone for the blood red rubies.”

“No! It’s not that at all. Actually would you help me put it on now?” Feyre rushed to reassure her.

Amren slid the cool chain around Feyre’s exposed neck. The necklace hung just above the neckline of her black dress, with some of the lower diamonds drawing attention to how low cut her dress was. When Feyre looked up from admiring it, she found Rhys staring intensely at her.

Azriel coughed pointedly, while side eyeing Rhys with amusement, before handing Feyre a small package. Feyre opened it, trying to shake off the feeling of Rhys’s gaze on her, to discover a small book, 'The Little Prince’. Feyre ran her hands over the cover in wonder.

“Rhys told me how well you’re doing with your reading now, so I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to give you your first book.” Azriel said, looking like he wanted nothing more than to disappear into the dark shadows of the shop.

“Thank you. I love it! I’ll go home and read it tonight.” Feyre promised.

She saw the tension leave Azriel’s shoulders as he offered her a shy smile.

“Alright, my turn, my turn!” Mor yelled as she shoved another hastily wrapped package into Feyre’s hands. “Az and I were talking about what to get you when he rudely stole my idea.” Mor glared at Azriel who merely shrugged.

“You know mine is the better book.” He said, his eyes lighting up with a twinkle that Feyre was beginning to recognise only appeared when he was around Mor.

Feyre laughed as she saw the book Mor had given her, 'How To Make Coffee, For Dummies’.

“I think Feyre makes coffee just fine.” Rhys offered, only to be shot down by Amren who claimed she would rather drink cyanide than whatever Feyre made for Rhys.

“Rhys just likes to prove how big and tough he is by drinking terrible coffee.” Cassian laughed.

Despite their taunts Feyre laughed as well, knowing it meant that they accepted her and teased her as one of their own. Besides, Feyre made all of their coffees for them now, and had never had a complaint other than when she was experimenting.

“Come on Rhys, show Feyre what you’ve got for her!” Mor said, buzzing with excitement.

Wariness crept in as Rhys held out a piece of paper for Feyre. She reached for it, briefly brushing her hand along Rhys’s as she grabbed for it. Feyre felt the eyes of everyone on her as she opened a letter. A letter from the most prestigious art academy in town. With shaking hands Feyre read through it.

“They… want to give me a scholarship. Why? How? I didn't even apply.” Feyre looked at Rhys in confusion.

Rhys gave her an embarrassed smile before saying, “I have a friend of a friend that works there. I might have mentioned you to him, how hard you work at the store, in our reading lessons, and of course what an astounding artist you are. He said he would love to meet you and that there would be a position for you there next year… if that’s what you wanted.”

“He was gloating about you basically.” Cassian said impishly.

“When isn’t he?” Amren added coyly.

Feyre could only make an odd choking noise as she tried to comprehend what this could mean for her. Abruptly she stood from the table, causing everyone else to jump up as well. Before she could stop herself, Feyre had crossed the room to fling herself into Rhys’s arms. At first Rhys seemed shocked to have a sobbing Feyre holding him, before he returned her hug tentatively.

“Arrogant prick. Always has to show up everyone else’s presents.” Mor said to Azriel who nodded in agreement.

In the end, Feyre hugged everyone else too, in thanks for their presents, and not at all because she was embarrassed to have hugged Rhys in front of them all.

A few hours later Feyre said goodbye as she noticed Lucien’s car pull up. Near the door Rhys pulled her aside.

“Feyre, I just want you to know that if you ever need me, or are scared, please call me.” Rhys eyed the bruises on her arms and Feyre shifted so they were less visible. “I won’t ask questions. Not if you don’t want me to. I’ll be happy just knowing you’re safe. You have my number still?”

Feyre’s mind flashed back to when she had first met Rhys after she had hit him with a snowball, and he had handed her a piece of paper with his number. She still had it stashed in her underwear drawer so it wouldn’t be found. She nodded at his insistent look, just as Cassian drunkenly called out.

“Looks like someone’s standing under some mistletoe!”

Feyre in horror looked up at the same time as Rhys, to find Mor had indeed placed some mistletoe above the door. Rhys flashed a menacing warning glare at Cassian, but it was too late. Feyre had already fled the shop.

“Fun party?” Lucien asked in amusement at seeing her bright red face.

“Great.” Feyre replied glumly.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to go.” He laughed.

With Tamlin not coming home until much later that night, Feyre had asked Lucien to take her to a ’work’ party. Lucien had agreed saying that it was Christmas and he was feeling generous, but warned her about not letting Tamlin know.

Lucien glanced at the presents clutched to her chest protectively, but thankfully didn’t ask Feyre what she had been given.

When they arrived home, Feyre groaned seeing that the house lights were already on.

“Have fun kiddo. Merry Christmas!” Lucien saluted her, leaving for his own house.

“Coward.” Feyre muttered to his back.

Inside, Feyre found the living room lights and television on, but Tamlin was no where to be found.

“Tam?” Feyre called out.

A scuffling noise from her bedroom led her down the halls to cautiously peer into her room. Tamlin was sitting on her bed, a broken phone on the ground at his feet.

“What’s wrong?” Feyre asked in concern.

She breezed into the room to kneel before him so she could see into his face better. Tamlin flinched when she came near, looking down on her with a look of betrayal. Unease clenched Feyre’s stomach tight when she noticed a piece of paper in his hands. From the way he clenched it Feyre couldn’t make out any words, but the corner of a star peeked out at her.

Feyre made to move away but it was too late as an iron grip crushed her wrist, anchoring her in front of Tamlin.

“Whose phone number were you hiding from me, darling?” His deadly tone of voice turning Feyre’s stomach over as she heard Rhys’s endearment for her.

“You went through my things?” Feyre demanded as calmly as she could. Not just any things either, her underwear drawer where she thought she would at least have some privacy. But she couldn't show Tamlin just how terrified she was, knowing it would only make her appear more guilty.

“Clearly I was right to. You’ve been hiding things from me Feyre." Tamlin drawled, hooking a finger under her chin so she could not break eye contact. "Whose number?”

Feyre panicked under the accusations. She futilely tried to tug out of Tamlin’s grip as tears sprang from her eyes under the bone cracking pressure he exerted onto her wrist when she remained silent.

Looking at the broken phone on the ground Feyre could already guess what had happened. There was no need to confirm her worst fear. Tired of waiting for an explanation, Tamlin answered for her.

“I wondered what my darling Feyre could ever be hiding from me. Surely nothing, I thought while dialling the number. Maybe your boss, or a work friend I thought so innocently. You can imagine my surprise when Rhysand answered.”

More tears fell down Feyre’s face but she wasn’t sure it was entirely because of pain now.

“I didn’t call or text him, I promise Tam! He just gave it to me the other day. It was silly of me to keep it. I’m sorry.”

A bit of pressure eased off her throbbing wrist.

“Then why hide it?”

“Because you and Lucien seemed to hate him so much. I knew you wouldn’t want me to have it.”

“Exactly, so why even bother keeping it?” Tamlin pushed.

Feyre shrugged, unable to answer.

Tamlin held out his hand. “Phone.” He demanded.

Wordlessly, Feyre handed it over. Tamlin scrolled through her recent texts, then her calls. Satisfied he returned it to her. That was when he noticed the gifts she had hastily flung onto the ground when she had run to him.

“What’s this?”

“I got invited to a work party and got a few presents.”

“Boxing gloves?” Tamlin held them up after releasing Feyre’s arm and going to inspect the items.

Gratefully, Feyre sunk to the ground clutching her arm.

“Feyre I have tolerated your little job but I think a boxing class is taking things too far. You could get hurt.”

Feyre almost laughed from the irony as she looked up from her already bruised wrist. She watched nervously as Tamlin looked over the other objects, mercifully not paying attention to the slip of paper announcing she had been offered a scholarship. She would have to break that to Tamlin somehow. When he turned his attention back to her, Feyre flinched and his face softened.

“Feyre, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But you scared me. I thought you had been seeing other… men behind my back. Let’s just forget about this alright?”

Feyre nodded solemnly as Tamlin tore up the piece of paper with Rhy’s number on it.

Luckily Feyre was good at remembering numbers.


	8. Chapter 8

Surviving Christmas Day with what Feyre feared was a fractured wrist was not fun. Tamlin was back to his normal self, doting on Feyre and even helping her cut her extravagant Christmas lunch when he saw she was having trouble. It almost made Feyre feel bad when she called Rhys as soon as Tamlin was called away on an urgent meeting in the afternoon, Lucien slinking off not much later.

Rhys picked up after two rings.

“Hello?” Rhys asked, over the booming laugh of Cassian in the background.

“Hey. It’s me... um Feyre.”

“Feyre?” Rhys asked shocked. Feyre heard Rhys shushing people in an attempt to hear her better. “Did you call me last night too? I’m sorry I tried ringing the number back, but it said it was disconnected.”

“No, that was probably Tamlin.” Feyre all but squeaked. 

There was a long pause before Rhys continued. “Are you okay?”

The pain in Feyre’s wrist and her isolation in Tamlin’s huge house came crashing into her and her voice cracked as she responded, “He found your number Rhys. He was furious. I don’t know how to fix this, I can’t-”

“Did he hurt you?” Rhys’s quiet voice interrupted.

Feyre felt ashamed to feel tears making tracks down her face, and at herself for still not being able to admit that she was hurt because of Tamlin. The pain and shame, mixed with guilt over how she had made Tamlin so angry, began to physically tighten in her chest. Feyre could barely breathe in between her short, shallow breaths. 

“I think I may have fractured my wrist.” She managed to get out in between gasps.

On the other end of the phone, Feyre heard movement and people talking in hushed tones.

“It’s alright Feyre. Just breathe, Mor and I are coming to get you.”

“Tamlin’s not here.”

“I don’t care, I’d still be coming if he was there. Can you keep talking to me?”

So for a few minutes, Feyre talked about her family, allowing Rhys to guide the conversation. She hadn’t heard from them in a while, and despite not having the greatest relationship with her sisters, she still missed them. Her father too. Rhys listened patiently, occasionally updating Feyre on their location. Talking calmed her down and took her mind off her increasing hysteria and pain.

By the time Rhys and Mor found her curled around her injured hand in the living room, Feyre was breathing easily again and had stopped crying. Rhys helped her up with her good arm while Mor disappeared down the hallway. Rhys kept a supportive arm around her out of the house and all the way out to the car, which Cassian had kept running. Feyre’s legs were working fine and she didn’t need the help from Rhys to remain upright, but she was leaning too much into the warmth of him to think about pulling away. She hadn’t even realised how cold it had gotten in the house once Tamlin had left.

Mor returned from the house carrying an armful of Feyre’s possessions, some clothes, and essential items. Feyre was too tired to question any of this as Rhys slotted her into the middle seat between him and Mor. As the car pulled out from the driveway, Feyre noticed a flash of red disappear from the window of Lucien’s house.

At the hospital, Feyre felt too exhausted to explain anything, so Mor happily did all the talking and persuaded a busy nurse to examine her. Rhys hovered nearby with Cassian, whispering rapidly between themselves. Feyre dully noted that Cassian seemed to be on the losing side of an argument as he stalked from the room.

The nurse asked a few questions as to the nature of the injury which Feyre did a poor job of answering, mainly just grunts or shrugs. As Feyre’s arm was being bandaged up, the nurse took Rhys and Mor a few paces away to talk.

“Her wrist is fractured but it’s small and won’t need surgery. After a few days of being wrapped and little to no movement, it should heal by itself.” The nurse seemed to be at war with herself over whether to continue. “The fracture is strange though, not what you would see from a fall as she’s trying to tell me.” At this, she gave a pointed look at Rhys.

Mor looked worriedly between the nurse and Rhys. “How does a person get the injury Feyre has?”

“Well the bones are nearly crushed. As if great force was used. Maybe if it was trapped under a heavy object or,” another pointed look at Rhys, “if a person strong enough crushed it with their own hand.”

Rhys’s face showed anger but he managed to calmly tell the nurse, “Neither myself nor Mor was there at the time. Her boyfriend was though.”

The nurse looked to Mor for confirmation who nodded. The nurse then pulled out a folder.

“I’ve seen that girl’s face around here too many times these past weeks. Her records show in a month she’s been here no less than four times. Suspected broken bones, bruising, a bad ankle, even a suspected broken nose once.”

Rhys felt sick. He hadn’t even picked up on half of Feyre’s injuries. She had always shown up to work in a good mood and rarely seemed to be in pain. He had known something was wrong for weeks, but didn’t want to get involved in Feyre’s relationship in case anyone thought he was meddling for purely selfish reasons. Mor looked just as distraught as himself.

“Now, clearly this girl doesn’t want to talk to me, I get that. But can I trust you two to make sure I don’t see her in here again?” The nurse asked.

“Don’t worry, we’ll talk with her. I’m going to see if she wants to stay with me for a few days.” Mor said, seeing that Rhys was in no state to talk.

“Good. I’ll leave her with you then. We’re also sending her home with a few pain meds but other than that she should be good to go.”

Once back in the car Rhys noticed that Feyre looked much better. She had some colour back in her face and her eyes didn’t look as empty. How had he not noticed how thin she had become lately?

“Feyre, how do you feel about coming and living with me for a few days?” Mor asked gently.

Rhys felt hatred pulse through him as he saw fear widen Feyre’s eyes.

“He wouldn’t like that.”

“It’ll just be for a few days Feyre. You can call… Tamlin, if you want. We just think you need some more company around you. Tamlin’s always working and we just want to make sure you heal properly. It will be like a big sleepover with just us girls.” Mor smiled.

When Feyre still looked uncertain, Mor looked at Rhys for support but he could only shake his head, knowing that if he opened his mouth up now, he would only say something that Tamlin deserved. But it would only make Feyre more upset in the process. So Mor waited patiently until Feyre finally nodded her head.

“Just for a few days.” Feyre nodded, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself.

Cassian dropped Mor and Feyre off at Mor’s house which she shared with Amren. Cassian smiled sadly at Feyre as he drove away with Rhys back to their shared house. Rhys had been alarmingly, and uncharacteristically quiet in the car, and Feyre had been unable to decipher his silence.

Holding a few meagre possessions, which Mor had grudgingly allowed her to take with her good hand after insisting she could help, Feyre made her way into the small house.

Inside was warm and despite the old appearance of the house from the outside, the inside was very modern looking and was only a few blocks down from the coffee shop. Amren was waiting for them in the kitchen with some food.

“Hey roomie.” Amren smiled, something Feyre was not often accustomed to seeing and the effect was a little alarming.

“Come, have some dinner Feyre.” Mor said while ripping an entire chicken leg off for herself.

“Thanks, but I’m not very hungry. I think I might just go to bed if that’s alright.”

Amren and Mor shared a worried glance but Amren showed her down the hallway to a spare room with a bed already made up for her. Feyre didn’t even pull back the covers before collapsing on it in a heap.

“We’ll save you some left overs for when you wake up.” Amren said, but Feyre was already asleep.

Only a few hours later, Mor and Amren were watching television together when Mor’s phone rang.

“Az, I already texted Rhys 10 times that Feyre is okay, tell him to stop rin-”

“Rhys is in hospital. Tamlin was here. Part of the house caught fire.”


	9. Chapter 9

Mor wasted no time in rushing to the hospital. She had argued with Amren over whether to wake Feyre or not, but in the end both had decided she needed the sleep and it wasn’t worth her feeling guilty over what had happened until they could sort it out. Amren would stay with Feyre in case she woke or in case Tamlin showed up. Both girls knew Tamlin couldn’t know where she lived and Mor knew there was no way Rhys would have told Tamlin that Feyre was with his cousin.

Before Azriel had hung up the phone she was told that while there was a small electrical fire, that it had now been put out. Cassian was with Rhys at the hospital, while Azriel dealt with the damage. Tamlin had disappeared quickly after that with Lucien.

Arriving at the hospital, Mor was ushered through until she found Rhys sprawled on a bed. She spotted bandages layering his torso and blood covered his face as a nurse was setting his broken nose. Cassian hovered nearby with bandaged hands.

“What the hell happened?” Mor demanded.

The nurse set Rhys’s nose with a crack as Rhys cursed colourfully.

“Damn it Mor, can you give me five seconds at least?” Rhys said nasally.

Mor held her hands up in surrender as Rhys glared at her. Cassian flexed his injured hands nervously until the nurses left, sweeping a pair of curtains closed behind them.

“Spill.”

"Where's Feyre?" Rhys asked instead, ignoring Mor's exasperated sigh. She in turn tried to ignore the hopeful tone in his voice as he peered around past Mor.

"I left her at home with Amren, she's fine. She fell asleep before dinner and hasn't woken since. Now. Tell. Me. What. Happened." Mor said through gritted teeth.

Rhys sighed, running his hands through his hair. “We’d been home for just a few hours before we heard banging on the door. Tamlin was shouting, asking for Feyre and like a fool, I actually opened the door.”

“Despite Az and I telling him to just call the cops.” Cassian cut in.

Rhys rolled his eyes before continuing. “I told him that Feyre wasn’t there but he wouldn’t have any of it. Said Lucien had seen us take Feyre, like we’d kidnapped her basically. I invited him in to search the house. He started trashing it when he couldn’t find her.”

“Azriel tried to stop him and that was when Lucien rounded on Az. That’s how I bruised my hands.” Cassian said.

Mor looked between the two shaking her head. “Does Tamlin know Feyre’s with me?”

Rhys’s eyes locked with hers as he shook his head. The threat of violence still hung onto him like a bad smell as Mor knew he was considering what would happen if Tamlin found out his cousin was hiding Feyre.

“I told him she was staying with her boss until he could learn to control his temper. That was when he hit me.”

“So how come Tamlin’s not here in the hospital too?” Mor glanced around wildly, almost expecting Tamlin to be on a neighbouring bed.

When Rhys was silent, Cassian answered for him, “Because Rhys didn’t throw a single punch.”

“What?” Mor knew her cousin could throw a mean punch, he had grown up with Cassian and gotten into more scuffles than she’d like to know about. She couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t fight back.

“I defended myself but…”

Mor could almost hear him wanting to finish his sentence, ‘I didn’t want to upset Feyre’. Her cousin was in way too deep. Even worse was that Feyre seemed oblivious to Rhys’s feelings. Although she had been preoccupied with dealing with an abusive asshole for a boyfriend for months.

“Rhys, you wanting to protect Feyre is going to get you hurt badly one day. Feyre’s isn’t going to stop talking to you because you stopped her ass of a boyfriend from burning your house down.”

“The house is fine. Just a few scorch marks.” Rhys said.

Mor raised an eyebrow at Cassian.

“They smashed the good TV.” He groaned. “Caused a few sparks and set part of the wall on fire.”

Mor sighed, rubbing her temples.

“How is Feyre?” Rhys asked quietly.

Mor nearly laughed. Rhys was lying in a hospital bed with a broken nose, and what Mor guessed were broken ribs, and he was asking about Feyre. Mor shared a knowing look with Cassian.

“She didn’t eat dinner but I think she’s mostly just exhausted. You on the other hand need to be worrying about yourself a little more.” She said while prodding the bandage on Rhys’s chest. He inhaled sharply at the pain. “Next time don’t let that bastard go without at least a few matching bruises.”

When Feyre woke it was mid day. She felt no desire to get out of bed, or eat for that matter, but she knew it would be rude of her not to get up and at least say hello to Mor and Amren. However, who she got when walking down the stairs was Rhys. Feyre stopped midstride at the door.

“Good morning. Or should I say good afternoon?” Rhys smiled charmingly at her.

“Where’s Mor and Amren?” Feyre asked suspiciously. 

“They had work.”

Feyre came closer to where he was lounging on the couch. He sounded different, like he had a blocked nose. As she approached, Rhys shifted so it was harder for her to see his face.

“So what does that make you then? My babysitter?”

Rhys laughed but quickly stopped as if it hurt him. “No Feyre, I just thought you could use some company, so you wouldn’t have to be alone.”

Feyre almost flinched, Rhys always seemed to know what she was feeling even without her having to tell him.

“Who said I didn’t want to be alone?”

Rhys looked at her sadly. “No one truly wants to be alone.”

Now Feyre wasn’t sure they were just talking about her. And Rhys still wasn’t looking at her straight on. She moved to sit next to him on the couch and Rhys was immediately sitting upright, pulling his legs away so there was room for Feyre without her having to touch him. But he winced when he moved and Feyre thought there was a stiffness to him.

“Don’t you have a job?” Feyre asked.

Rhys grinned back at her, “Right now my job is taking care of you.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of.” Feyre huffed.

“I know, but I’m here all the same.”

For a moment Rhys let his guard down and Feyre managed to get a clear look at his face. There was no mistaking the slight crookedness to his previously, annoyingly near perfect nose.

“Rhys! What happened?” Feyre exclaimed.

Rhys had started to move away, started finding the words to quickly reassure her that it was nothing and he was fine, but Rhys stilled, completely unable to form a single coherent thought as Feyre reached for his face. Their thighs were touching, Feyre’s hips next to his as she had moved closer to inspect his face.

Very carefully, Feyre gripped his jaw with one hand as she turned his face to look directly into hers. Her other hand reached out to touch his nose before deciding that wouldn’t be a good idea.

Rhys couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. He was unabashedly staring into her face, studying it, as he’d never allowed himself to be this close before. He saw the tiny freckles that were near invisible compared to the ones on her shoulders and arms. Her long eyelashes that framed her beautiful eyes. Then it wasn’t long before Rhys found himself staring at her lips, the way they pursed as she was inspecting his nose. Suddenly they tightened to form a thin line as a thought crossed her mind.

“Who did this to you?” She demanded.

Just like that the spell was broken and Rhys had to break away from Feyre. Had to get away from her, not only because he couldn’t think when she was touching him, but because she was in love with someone else. An abusive and manipulative person for sure, but the heart couldn’t always tell that. And Rhys could tell that at least when Feyre had first fallen for Tamlin, she had fallen hard.

His silence seemed to speak for itself.

“I’m going to kill him.” Feyre muttered.

“Don’t. You just need to let him know you’re okay and need some space. Don’t tell him where you are.”

Feyre gave him a look that said she wasn’t stupid, as she took in the way he was now standing on the other side of the room from her, clutching his side. Moving caused his bruised rib a great deal of pain, and Rhys couldn’t stop his heavy breathing from being so close to Feyre.

Feyre got up and started slowly walking over to Rhys. He held up a hand as if he could hold her back. Feyre ignored it, coming to a stop just in front of him. She gently peeled his hand away from his side, then replaced it with her own, feeling the bandages underneath. Rhys was breathing shallowly again as Feyre’s hand cautiously explored the side of his torso.

“Is it broken?” She asked, sounding on the verge of tears.

“Just slightly bruised.” He tried light heartedly.

Feyre pursed her lips again in a way that meant she didn't believe him, but then softly asked, “Can I see?”

“Feyre darling if you wanted me to take my shirt off you should’ve just asked.” He purred.

Feyre pulled back to glare at him with arms folded across her chest, but Rhys felt a small thrill run through him when he saw a faint blush creeping across her cheekbones.

He sighed before tugging his shirt up and over his head. Feyre let out a small gasp at the purple and black bruises peeking out from underneath the bandage.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Rhys tried, but Feyre only looked at him in horror.

“I’m so sorry Rhys, I should never have left-”

“Don’t you dare think this is your fault Feyre.” Rhys interrupted, his voice a near growl. 

Feyre only shook her head, tears flowing freely down her face as she realised that Rhys had been hurt because Tamlin had been looking for her. The thought of anyone else being hurt because of Tamlin nearly broke her. Her own pain she could handle, she had caused most of his outbursts anyway, but the thought of her friends being put in harms way made her feel sick.

Rhys saw her start to shake and he couldn’t hold it back anymore, he reached for her, gently tugging her into the circle of his arms and pressing her face to his shoulder. Feyre froze, and for a horrible minute Rhys thought he was about to be refused, until he felt Feyre almost collapse into his arms. The weight of her leaning into his chest hurt his rib but Rhys didn’t care. He stroked her hair soothingly as he murmured to her about how she was safe and that he was fine.

Eventually Feyre stopped crying, but she didn’t leave Rhys’s arms either. They stayed like that for a while, Rhys pressed up against the wall, hugging Feyre to him.

“I’ll text him. Tell him I’m fine and not to come looking for me until I’m ready.” Feyre mumbled against his shoulder.

“I know, I know.” Rhys said soothingly.

That was when Amren came through the door. Rhys suddenly realised he still had no shirt on and was holding Feyre to him. Feyre froze as well as she heard the door open.

“For gods sake, at least put a shirt on Rhys.” Amren drawled.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone leaving kudos and comments :)

Rhys and Feyre sprang apart as if electrified. Rhys shrugged his shirt back on while Feyre stared at the ground red faced. By the time Feyre had the nerve to look up, Amren had already left the room.

“I should probably text Tamlin.” Feyre said, hurriedly leaving.

Rhys bawled up his fists, cursing how stupid he had been as he watched the back of Feyre disappear down the hallway. He left Mor’s, knowing Amren would look after Feyre and decided to give Feyre some space to sort out her feelings with Tamlin.

Back in Feyre’s room, Feyre had just finished sending Tamlin a message when Amren came in, sprawling onto Feyre’s bed face down.

“Tough day at work?” Feyre asked politely.

“Was alright." Amren said, voice half muffled by the bed. "I’m more depressed over watching two people, who can’t admit their feelings for each other, make goo goo eyes all day behind the other’s back.”

Feyre nodded sagely like she understood. “Mor and Az.”

Amren raised a surprised head. “Those two?” She asked incredulously.

“Of course. It’s obvious they’re pining after each other, who else could it be?”

“Talk about in denial. Azriel and Mor are definitely who I was referring to in this situation.” She smirked at Feyre. “Seeing as you seem to understand so much about this mutual pining after someone, what advice would you give Mor?”

Feyre’s face grew dark. “I’m not sure I’m the person to be giving advice on love at the moment.”

“Oh put aside that tool for one moment Feyre. If you were in a similar situation, how would you save yourself some time and move forward?”

“I guess if I was sure that they felt the same, I would be honest and tell them how I felt.”

“Exactly.” Amren said with a smile. She quickly changed the subject. “So have you texted The Tool yet?”

“Just then. I had to make sure he didn’t come looking for me again. And don't call him that.” Feyre said, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

“So, Rhys told you about what he did?”

“After he tried to hide it, but yes.” Feyre paused. “I never thought Tamlin would hurt anyone else.”

Amren reached out to touch Feyre’s arm. “He can’t hurt you again either, if you don’t let him.”

“Amren I have to go back.”

“No you absolutely do not.” She said matter of factly.

Feyre got up off the bed and began pacing. “He’ll only get worse the longer I’m away. He still loves me Amren, plus he’s helping my family. They’d be starving without his help.”

“Feyre, just because someone loves you, that doesn’t give them the right to control you, to do whatever they damned well please with you. That’s not love. Besides you work now. You can support not only yourself, but your family too.”

Feyre didn’t respond, just increased her pacing.

“You have a lot of people around here who care about and love you Feyre. Don’t give that up for someone who wants to keep you locked away.”

Amren got up silently and left the room.

The next day Feyre woke up late again and made her way down to the living room. She found Rhys once again waiting for her.

“My god, don’t you have a home?” She asked with a yawn.

“I’d have more of a home if your beloved hadn’t tried to burn it down.” Rhys muttered.

“He did what?” Feyre gasped, pausing mid-step. 

“Oh, it's nothing a little bit of water and new paint won’t fix.”

“Rhys.” Feyre said sternly.

“It’s in the past Feyre, I’d much rather focus on today and the beautiful woman I am presented with.” Rhys said, back to his cocky self. “Get dressed, we’re going out.”

“Where?”

“Does it matter? We’re getting you out of the house and getting some good food into you.” He grinned.

“I don’t know. What if we run into Tamlin?”

“I highly doubt Tamlin would stoop to coming to my part of town. He feels it is very much beneath him.” Rhys said with a curl to his lip.

Feyre took in Rhys’s fine clothing and the way elegance and richness seemed to drip off of him. She raised an eyebrow in disbelief as to how anyone could think that Rhys came from anywhere but a nice neighbourhood.

“You don’t look like someone who exactly lives in the slums.”

“Oh I don’t. I just live in a highly cultural place, which to some may seem less than ideal if you’re the snobby and elitist type.”

“And here I was, pegging you for being both snobby and elitist.”

Rhys let out a surprised laugh. Before making a motion that suggested to Feyre that she should start getting ready.

When Feyre found a warm enough outfit borrowed from Mor that would do, she met Rhys outside. She had left her face free of makeup because she simply couldn’t find within herself the energy to apply it, and under no circumstances did she want Rhys to think this outing was some sort of date.

When she made it outside, she realised that she had never seen Rhys’s car before. Perhaps because he did not have one, Feyre realised as she took in the sleek black motorbike now parked in the driveway of the house.

“Absolutely not. Nope. No way. Come back with a proper car.” Feyre began to back up towards the house.

Rhys flashed her a grin so wide he reminded her of Cassian when he was about to play an especially bad prank. “Oh Feyre Darling don’t be like that. Haven’t you ever wondered what it was like to fly?”

Rhys seemed visibly excited and happy to find that persuading Feyre to get on the motorbike hadn’t been as hard as he thought it would be. She had climbed on the back behind him gingerly, before placing cautious hands around his middle to hold on. When Rhys took off, she let out a startled yelp and wrapped her arms fully around him for grip.

“Prick!” She yelled in his ear which he heard, even through his helmet and the sound of the rushing wind which drowned out his roaring laughter.

He drove them downtown to a place Feyre had never been before. It seemed separate from the rest of town. Like its own separate community. A sign informed her that they had passed into a neighbourhood called ‘Velaris’.

They stopped at a cluster of stores which led into more of a main street further down. Feyre tried patting down her helmet hair self consciously as people turned to stare at them.

To her surprise, Rhys barely ran a hand through his slightly mussy hair, before striding over to a nearby man who he shook hands with and greeted warmly. Soon, everyone around them began greeting Rhys.

It wasn’t long before Rhys caught the curious, but not rude, glances being thrown at Feyre. He waved her over and began making introductions. Feyre expected the people he was talking to, to be businessmen, people he worked with. But they turned out to be every day people from all sorts of professions. She met a baker, a plumber, a single mother, and a chef, before Feyre couldn’t keep track anymore so just resorted to smiling and nodding. Despite herself, Feyre found she enjoyed talking to these friendly strangers. It was easier to talk to people who didn't know her and wouldn't ask uncomfortable questions.

Rhys took her down the street through stores, exploring the area. They even had an artist’s studio where people could go to learn to paint. Rhys politely asked if she would like to go in but Feyre, maybe a little too quickly, refused. Shrugging, he had walked them on to a more residential area. The people around there had darker hair and appeared more tanned, with dark olive skin. So similar to Rhys it was almost like a family resemblance.

“This is the Illyrian community. Where I grew up.” Rhys said almost shyly, and Feyre understood what Rhys was offering up to her.

They carried on in silence until they came across a group of older men angrily discussing something.

“Wait here.” Rhys told her quietly, before slipping on a mask of calmness and heading over to the men.

Feyre tried to wait patiently. She really did. But something about Rhys made her more reckless, not wanting to obey orders given to her this time. She heard the excited yelling of children nearby and went to investigate.

Six children played a game of hockey in the middle of an empty street. Feyre watched them quietly until one of the boys scored a goal and cheered so obnoxiously she laughed aloud. Six heads swivelled to appraise her in the unabashed way children stare at strangers. The one who had just scored held out a spare stick to her.

“Would you like to play?” He asked.

“I don’t know how to.”

“That’s okay. Jesper doesn’t really know how to play either, but we let him anyway.” A different boy responded, as another, presumably Jesper, hit the other’s shin with his stick.

Feyre laughed. “Okay but I’m warning you now, I’m more of a liability than an asset.”

Feyre mostly played defence, allowing the children who could only be around ten years old, to score without making it look like she was going too easy on them.

Feyre was grinning ear to ear, enjoying playing a simple game so much she nearly didn’t notice the group of raven haired girls huddled nearby, watching the game with interest. She stopped to walk over to them.

“Do you play?” She asked them, holding out her stick.

One of the girls reached out for the stick shyly, fingers just about to grasp it, before it was ripped from both her, and Feyre’s hand. One of the boys had snatched it away sulkily.

“Little girls aren’t allowed to play hockey.” He said crossly.

“And what are they supposed to do instead?” Feyre asked.

“Girly chores. Boring stuff.”

“You let me play.” Feyre said crossing her arms over the injustice.

“That’s different!” The boy insisted.

Feyre leaned down to loudly whisper to the girls conspiratorially, “It’s only because they know you’ll beat them.”

“They won’t beat us!” Another boy chimed in.

“Prove it then. You have enough sticks.” Feyre said challengingly.

Not wanting to admit defeat, the boys rushed to arm the girls with sticks and set up the game for more people. Feyre watched happily as the girls were allowed to join in and cheered loudly when they scored a goal.

The loud clearing of a voice sounded from behind Feyre, who whipped around so fast she nearly fell over. Rhys was standing a few paces away with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a knowing smile. Sheepishly, Feyre made her way over to him.

“I’ve been trying to get the girls more involved in sport for weeks, and you stroll in here like it’s nothing.” He laughed.

“Yeah, well I’m assuming you haven’t had to deal with as many bull headed boys as I have, or it never occurred to you to use how sensitive your male egos are.”

“Sensitive are we?”

“Yep. Sensitive Illyrian babies. The lot of you.”

“You’ve been spending too much time around my cousin for my liking.” He winked at her.

By the time they met up with the others in a nearby restaurant for dinner, Feyre was buzzing with an unexpected lightness. She laughed and ate so much at dinner she felt sick, surprising Mor and Amren who had not seen her eat since arriving at their home.

“Don’t worry Feyre, Mor’s cooking does taste better than it smells.” Amren joked.

But then the dinner turned more serious as Azriel asked about why the neighbourhood seemed more tense than usual. That was when Feyre realised she had never asked Rhys about what the group of men had been arguing over.

All laughter drained from Rhys’s face as he spoke. “Notices were dropped in everyone’s letter boxes. The construction of the factory is going ahead. They managed to find enough investors.”

“Factory?” Feyre asked, aware that this was maybe well above her head and none of her business, so was pleasantly surprised when Rhys answered her honestly.

“A big company bought land nearby to start building a monstrosity of a factory.”

“I don’t understand, won’t it provide jobs?” Feyre asked confused.

“Once it’s built, it will pollute all the land and water around it. This company in particular uses dangerous chemicals that have been known to harm people living nearby. The company denies it of course, but our own sources tell us it could be catastrophic.” Azriel added.

“Not to mention, houses immediately in the vicinity will need to be demolished to make room.” Said Cassian.

“Anyone left will become sick due to pollutants.” Mor said sadly.

Feyre was shocked. The whole community was about to be ruined. She thought of the children playing in the street suddenly overcome with disease. Their families forced off their property. “How could this happen?”

“We had hoped to scare off all investors trying to give the company the resources it needed to build. Clearly it didn’t work.” Said Rhys.

Feyre was beginning to develop a horrible feeling in her stomach. Suspicion gnawed at her insides. “What if they didn’t need a lot of different benefactors, just one single, but wealthy, investor?" 

Rhys rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "I suppose that could work. There are few folk around here that could afford that though.”

Steeling herself for the answer, Feyre asked, “What’s the name of the company?” 

An old memory resurfaced of Feyre sitting with Lucien after Tamlin had stalked off, stressed over work, where Feyre had asked this very same question.

Feyre felt her stomach drop as Rhys growled a single word, “Hybern."


	11. Chapter 11

The remainder of dinner passed solemnly as everyone tried and failed to think of ideas that would allow the Illyrians to stay on their rightful land.

Feyre could feel Rhys’s watchful eyes on her as she poked at her spaghetti, twirling it around on her fork and watching it slowly drip back into the bowl over and over. She couldn’t understand how Tamlin was even considering helping such a vile company. Lucien had been against it but mentioned that Hybern was offering Tamlin a deal too good to refuse, but at what cost to the Illyrians?

When Feyre looked up Rhys was still watching her. He quirked an eyebrow at her. Tell me what you’re thinking. He seemed to ask. 

In response, Feyre downed the glass of wine Rhys had bought her, and turned to face the group, “I think I know who that single, wealthy investor is.”

Rhys and Mor looked at each other in silent agreement as if Feyre was confirming something they already had guessed, but it was Cassian who asked, “Well tell us.”

“A few weeks ago Tamlin grew… more agitated than usual-”

Mor snorted, “You mean he wasn’t always so delightful and charming?”

Feyre’s face burned in shame and Rhys shot Cassian and Azriel a warning glare as they snickered at Mor’s comment. Underneath the table, Rhys nudged his knee alongside Feyre’s gently, “Go on.” He urged. 

“Lucien said it was because he was working with a new business partner, later on I found out it was Hybern’s company.”

“You say that as if you’ve met the man.” Azriel said.

“I have.” Feyre said, shocking them all.

“When?” Rhys asked quietly.

“Not long ago, he was at our-” Feyre caught herself before quickly amending, “Tamlin’s house.”

“Of course those two are best buds.” Cassian said.

“He didn’t seem like he wanted to take the deal. But Hybern was making it worth his while.” Feyre countered. 

“Well at least we know how to get to Hybern’s greatest investor.” Azriel was looking intently at Feyre.

“Az.” Mor warned before Rhys quickly interrupted.

“You want to use Feyre as leverage?” 

“Of course not Rhys, I just meant that Tamlin will listen to Feyre. She can try and convince him to withdraw from the plans.”

“But that would mean Feyre has to be near Tamlin again, and like that will happen any time soon.” Amren said. 

Rhys nodded his approval. Feyre could barely sit still while the others made plans about how to sway Tamlin without involving her.

“I’ll do it. If it means protecting these people.” Feyre interrupted quietly.

“Feyre-” Mor began before Rhys silenced her with a look.

“It’s your decision Feyre, but at least think it over first?”

“I have thought it over. I want to do this.”

“I don’t like this Rhys.” Mor said, crossing her arms.

“I never said we’d let her go alone. We can ask him to meet her in public. We can all be nearby just in case. She needs to talk with him anyway, we can’t go on hiding her forever.”

“I agree. Feyre should be able to go back to work, or anywhere in town for that matter, without having to look over her shoulder.” Azriel added.

Feyre nodded at them all, “I’ll ask him to meet me tomorrow.” When she saw Mor anxiously biting her nails across from her she leaned over to grip her hand. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Still. I wish Cassian had already taught you a few boxing moves.” Mor grumbled.

“It’s not too late.” Cassian said with a devilish smile.

“Cassian it’s nearly 7, let the poor girl sleep.” Amren argued.

“I’ve had enough sleep. I want to learn.” Feyre said earnestly.

Rhys’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Now this sounds fun.”

Amren and Mor went back home while Feyre once again climbed onto the back of Rhys’s motorcycle. Cassian and Azriel would meet them at the house for Feyre’s first lesson. 

Feyre strode up to the bike confidently and let no fear show on her face as Rhys revved the engine teasingly. 

“There was not nearly as much screaming as I had hoped there would be last time. We may have to change that.” He said wickedly.

“Don’t you dare.” Feyre warned, squeezing Rhys’s middle tightly to emphasize it.

“I think you secretly like it.”

“I think I’ve had enough of being scared to death recently, thank you.”

Feyre had meant it as a joke but she felt Rhys deflate as he hung his head low in front of her. Feyre lifted a hand to place it reassuringly on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze to show she hadn’t really meant it. 

“You’d better hold on tight.” Was all Rhys said, a clear message to remove her hand.

Lights were already on at Rhys’s considerably large house when they arrived. Removing her helmet, Feyre gaped at the townhouse.

“There it goes.” Rhys interrupted.

“What?”

“Any hope that you would like me for my dashing looks and personality alone now.”

Feyre smiled and pushed his shoulder playfully as he showed her into the house.

Cassian and Azriel were waiting for them in a spare room which had been cleared out for Cassian’s boxing equipment.

“About time. Did you guys get lost?” Azriel asked.

“Probably best not to ask what those two get up to in their spare time.” Cassian joked, sending Feyre a wink.

“Are you just trying to anger Feyre enough so she’ll actually punch you Cassian?” Rhys replied.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m perfectly capable of punching him with no foreplay needed.” 

Cassian roared with laughter and even Rhys shot her a delighted grin. 

“You might want these first then.” Azriel said, tossing her a pair of obviously used gloves.

“You should really wrap your hands first. Here let me.” Rhys grabbed a roll of bandaging and held out an expectant hand.

Feyre noticed Cassian and Azriel suddenly finding other places in the room to be and averted their gazes as she placed her hand in Rhys’s large and callused one. He barely looked up at her as he silently bound her hands with surprising gentleness.

“Alright, now try flexing them. Can you move okay?” He asked when he finished.

Feyre tested out her mummified hands before nodding and slipping on a pair of gloves. Then Cassian approached her with a pair of punching pads on each hand, grinning wickedly at her.

Some agonizing hours later, Feyre was permitted to stop for the night. She slumped onto the floor in the corner, gulping down water that Azriel had gotten for her. 

Cassian had been relentless, but a good teacher. Azriel and Rhys had stayed to call out encouragement and give advice when Cassian permitted them. Feyre’s punches had been sloppy and weak at first, but by the end of the session, Cassian actually winced a few times. Whether he was humoring her or not, Feyre didn’t care. 

She shook out her bruised and raw hands and Rhys was immediately there to remove the bandaging and holding an ice pack.

“We’ve all been there.” He smiled when she raised an eyebrow at the ice.

They all moved to the living room as Cassian began to complain about his aching legs and feet. Azriel put the TV on as he and Cassian took the only armchairs available, leaving the small couch for Rhys and Feyre.

Rhys shrugged as he moved to sit, a challenge on his face as Feyre hesitated. Steeling herself, Feyre sat next to him. The couch was so small that no matter what way Feyre sat, her thigh was always touching Rhys. 

It wasn’t long before Azriel went to bed claiming lack of sleep. Then the lolling of Cassian’s head and soft snoring announced he had fallen asleep in his chair. Feyre laughed while Rhys tried to quieten her.

“He gets grumpy if woken from a nap.” He explained grinning.

Rhys was so close she could practically hear his heart beating quickly as he seemed to take note of how close she also was to him. Feyre tried looking around to distract herself, and that was when she noticed faint scorch marks on the wall near the TV. 

“Did Tamlin do that?”

Rhys followed her gaze before sighing. “Yes. I would say he didn’t mean to but I think I would be lying.”

“I’ll get him to pay for any damages tomorrow.”

“I don’t need his money.” Rhys said, a faint look of disgust on his face. “I really wish you weren’t doing this.” He added, suddenly serious.

“Then why are you going along with it?”

“Because I believe you need to face him. Because we need your help. Because you’re the only one who may be able to convince him to stop all this.”

“And what if the only way to get him to agree is if I go back to him?”

Rhys went still. As if the thought hadn't occurred to him. An icy rage settled over him but the hand that reached for Feyre’s hand remained gentle. As his fingers locked around hers she nearly flinched, remembering the last time Tamlin’s hand had closed over her wrist. 

“Do you want to go back?” Rhys asked, staring at her intently.

Feyre paused. Considered the question seriously. “No.”

Feyre loved Tamlin. Maybe a small part of her always would. But she could not forgive the way she had been treated. No matter the stress he was under, Tamlin should never have hurt her. Mor and Amren had helped her understand that. Azriel and Cassian had helped her to laugh and made her not feel so lonely when she had felt unhappy in Tamlin’s empty house. 

And Rhys. Rhys had taught her to read. Allowed her to work for him. Gotten her out of bed and exploring new places when she had felt like doing nothing but sleeping for a year. Not to mention given her a safe place to go when she needed to get away from Tamlin. 

Rhys studied her carefully. His gaze seeming to read all these thoughts racing through her head. “Why not?”

“I don’t think I can ever go back to how things were between us. You’ll be there tomorrow right? In case…” Feyre finished uncertainly.

“I’ll be there.” Rhys promised.

A bit of tension left Feyre as she prayed for everything to go right. 

“Feyre, if Tamli-” Rhys began but Feyre cut him off.

“I don’t want to talk about Tamlin anymore.”

Rhys appraised her sudden boldness. A purr crept into his voice as he asked, “What do you want to talk about then Feyre darling?”

“I don’t want to talk at all.” 

And before she lost her nerve, Feyre leaned forward and removed all distance between her and Rhys. Her hands reached for the rough stubble of his face as her lips crashed into his. If Rhys was shocked he didn’t show it, his hands winding through Feyre’s hair and pulling her closer immediately with a small gasp. 

Feyre slid one of her hands to the nape of Rhys’s neck, running her hands through the silky strands there. Rhys countered by extricating a hand from her hair and sliding it down and around her waist. A small gasp was elicited from Feyre as his hand gripped her, Rhy’s thumb sweeping in small circles up her side and along her ribs. 

A few minutes crept by, Feyre’s hand travelling to rest upon Rhys’s chest as he hummed contentedly, until an awful gurgling noise from Cassian had them springing apart. Cassian’s head snapped up as he woke. 

“What’d I miss?” He asked with a sleepy voice. 

His eyes widened as he noticed the flush on Feyre’s cheeks, both of their messed up hair, and how Feyre’s shirt had ridden up to show just a sliver of her stomach. A cheshire cat grin slowly spread across Cassian’s face.

“I was just about to take Feyre to bed- I MEAN HOME!” Rhys said, horrified.

Cassian only laughed and even Feyre couldn’t hold back her laughter at being caught. 

“Whatever Rhys, just maybe next time, ask for some privacy.” Cassian got up and strolled from the room, shoulders still silently shaking from laughter.

Rhys looked at Feyre sheepishly. “I really should be getting you home.”

“Only if we don’t take that bike.”

“So you’re saying if the bike is the only option you’ll just have to stay here?” Rhys said smirking.

Ferye flicked him on the nose. “No, it means I’ll ask Azriel to drop me home instead, you prick.”

Rhys laughed. “Prick already is it? Why only a few minutes ago you-” 

Feyre silenced him straight away with a small peck on his lips. He looked down at her almost dazed.

“Just take me home please.”

“Of course.”


	12. Chapter 12

The sun rose, bathing Feyre’s room in sunlight but Feyre had already been up for hours. She had been tossing and turning all night feeling guilty as hell.

She had kissed Rhysand. Even worse, she had liked kissing Rhysand.

No matter how hard she thought back, Feyre couldn’t figure out when things had changed between them. She refused to believe those feelings had been there all along because that would make her even more of a cheating douchebag.

Her and Tamlin weren’t even officially broken up. Well, Feyre assumed that was how Tamlin was judging the situation, due to his eager text back at 1am that morning when Feyre had asked to meet for lunch.

They had agreed to meet at a small restaurant for lunch, not far from the coffee shop. Mor and Amren would be waiting outside, while the boys would stay at the store, sfaely out of sight as just the sight of Rhysand might set Tamlin off.

Feyre did her best with makeup to hide the dark bags under her eyes and added some light blush to give her pale face colour.

Hopefully after today Feyre wouldn’t have to deal with Tamlin again for a while. If she was lucky. But that didn’t change how she felt for Rhys. Or how recently she had been broken up with Tamlin.

It wasn’t about what others would think of her for moving on so quickly, it was the way it made Feyre’s stomach knot up and made her legs feel leaden with guilt. She would have to talk to Rhys. Maybe if she just got some space, she could sort her head out and if the feelings were still there… then what? Rhys had never shied away from hiding how he found her attractive, the constant flirting was proof of that. But had he ever really said he was interested in more than basic flirting to help pass the time? Feyre didn’t think so.

Arranging her hair into something not resembling a bird’s nest anymore, Feyre headed downstairs to find Mor.

Mor was cooking alone in the kitchen when Feyre found her.

“Hey sleepyhead, get home a bit late last night did we?” Mor said with a wink.

Trying to sound as bored and casual as possible Feyre said, “I kissed Rhys last night.”

Mor dropped the wooden spoon she had been using to stir scrambled eggs in the pan.

“Let me at least put some coffee on before you say anything of interest first. I want to be fully awake for this.”

“…You’re not mad?”

“Of course I’m mad." Mor said brandishing the wooden spoon at Feyre. "I bet Cassian you two would hook up in two weeks. He said you guys wouldn't last two days. You’ve just lost me $50. Actually, don’t suppose you wanna keep this from Cassian for a few days?”

Feyre laughed a bit giddy with relief. “He may have seen us, so no can do. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Mor froze and gazed at her curiously, “Oh?” Was all she said though.

“I don’t think it meant anything.” Feyre said, a little too softly.

An odd look flashed across Mor’s face. Her face turned grim before she turned back to stirring the pan. “What makes you say that? Something Rhys said?”

“No it’s not that, it’s just… it’s Rhysand. He flirts with everyone.”

“He used to.” Mor’s voice sounded tight.

“I’m still technically with Tamlin anyway.” Feyre again tried to sound casual, unbothered.

“Feyre, everyone around here knew that was over the second you ended up in hospital by his hand.”

“It’s only been days Mor! It’s too soon for me to already be with someone else.”

Mor turned back to stare Feyre down. “If you need space that’s fine. But Rhys needs to be told that too. You can’t lead him on.”

Feyre had rarely heard Mor sound so stern.

“We’re just fooling around. Rhys has never mentioned wanting anything more.”

Mor regarded her intently for a moment, as if assessing if she was being equally serious. “Okay Feyre. But please… don’t hurt him.”

Feyre arrived with Mor and Amren at the shop first to meet the others. One of the other workers waved at them a bit shyly from behind the counter as they arrived.

Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel were already sitting at one of the back tables with coffees. As they approached, Feyre could feel Rhys’s eyes trying to meet hers but she refused to raise her eyes. A faint blush crept along her cheeks as she tried to ignore a wave of heat under his gaze that spread throughout her whole body.

“How are you feeling Feyre?” Azriel asked.

“It’s not too late to back out.” Cassian added.

But Feyre shook her head. “I’m fine. I just want to get this over with.”

“We’ll be here if you need us.” Rhys said, trying to get her to look at him.

She risked him a small smile and held his stare for half a second, before looking away.

“Feyre, a word please?” Rhys said, standing to usher her towards the front of the store.

When they were alone, and Rhys had glared at his friends until they at least were less inconspicuous about their efforts to listen in, Rhys reached out a hand to grasp Feyre’s arm gently.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Is that why you won’t look at me?”

Feyre made an effort to stare down his violet gaze. Her sickening guilt changing into something with more steel.

“I can’t do this right now.”

“Do what? The meeting with Tamlin?”

“No. This. Us.” Feyre said, wildly gesturing between them. 

The warmth behind Rhys’s eyes winked out like stars, replaced with a cold, icy stare. He withdrew his hand from her arm.

“Us?” He gritted out.

“Yes. Whatever this is, I can’t. It’s too soon. I’m seeing Tamlin today! He thinks we never even broke up.”

Rhys’s voice was unusually flat and without feeling as he said, “I understand that things have gone quickly and I’m sorry if that was my fault. We can go back to being just friends.”

A small traitorous part of Feyre cried out at the suggestion.

“Flirting with you was a fun distraction but I understand now. That’s all you wanted.” Rhys added.

Feyre went to reassure him, say anything that would take away the hurt look behind his eyes but Rhys gave her a small, sad smile, then turned away swiftly and went back to his friends, leaving Feyre feeling somehow more guilty than she had before.

Feyre was early for the lunch. She wanted to already be sitting down when Tamlin arrived so she would have an excuse not to get up and hug him, as she knew he would try to do.

She had been ripping apart a napkin when she saw Tamlin walk inside, followed by Lucien. Lucien nodded at her and went to take a seat at a table further away to give them some privacy.

Tamlin stopped before her wearing his typical business suit. He was smiling warmly at her but Feyre refused to return one back, as she also refused to stand when he held his hands out to her.

“Sit down Tamlin.” She said coldly.

Tamlin had the good sense to look a little unnerved as he sat down opposite her.

“It’s good to see you Feyre. I’ve missed yo-”

“Don’t. Just don’t. I need to talk to you Tamlin, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

Tamlin’s smiled vanished as he brought his hands onto the table to fold them together.

“I’m sorry but I’m not coming back. Not after what you did.”

“Feyre I never meant to hurt you. Ever. You have to believe that. I’m so sorry it’s come to this, but you have to forgive me.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I asked you here to tell you that we’re over but I also need to talk to you about something el-”

“Did he put you up to this?” Tamlin interrupted quietly.

“Who?”

“Rhysand.” Tamlin spat.

“No, this was my decision. And you owe him an apology.”

“What?” He snarled in outrage.

“Tamlin you put him in hospital! And set fire to part of his house!”

“Because he kidnapped you Feyre! I was terrified for you. I was trying to help you.”

“Just do me a favour and not do anything for me ever again. You could’ve hurt a lot of people. And that’s why I can’t be with you anymore. I love you Tamlin but you also hurt me. I need more freedom than you could ever give me.”

Tamlin’s jaw was clenching and unclenching as he tried to control his temper.

“Feyre.” He said softly. “I need you. I’ll change. I can be better. You just need to stop talking to Rhysand.”

Feyre’s temper flared dangerously. “Stop bringing him into this! This has nothing to do with him.”

“Tell me what I can do to make this up to you Feyre.” Tamlin begged, making Feyre feel sick.

“… there is one thing.”

“What is it Feyre?”

“I need you to pull out of your deal with Hybern.”

Tamlin looked visibly confused so Feyre continued, “He’s going to build a factory, it’s going to make a lot of Illyrian’s very sick, they could die Tamlin. We have to stop it from happening.”

Tamlin’s face went dark. “He put you up to this too, didn’t he?”

Feyre had to stop herself from slapping him.

“He didn’t have to. The second I heard about Hybern’s plan I knew I had to stop him. This isn’t about us, or Rhys, it’s about saving a bunch of innocent people. How could you have ever agreed to this?”

“I only recently agreed.” He said gravely.

“Why?”

“Hybern said he would make sure the Illyrians would be gone, including Rhysand.”

“Tamlin you have to take it back. Do you really think that forcing an entire community to leave their homes would make me come running back to you?”

“I would do anything to keep you by my side.”

Feyre was mortified. “Then back out of the deal.”

“Only if you come home.”

“I can’t do that.” Feyre said shaking her head.

“Then the plan goes ahead. You can stop it though, if you just come home.”

“I’m already home.” Feyre said and rose to leave.

Tamlin immediately stood up too, Lucien on the other side of the room mirrored him with a worried glance.

“You will let me leave without causing a scene or you will be sorry Tamlin.” Feyre said, glaring down at the hand he had used to grip her to him by her arm.

People began glancing at them concernedly. Some began whispering to each other.

A waitress approached them looking sternly at Tamlin. Clearing her throat she said loudly, “Mam, is there a problem?”

Feyre smiled sweetly at her, “Not at all. Two of my friends are waiting outside, would you be able to tell them to come inside please?”

The waitress hurried outside to where Feyre hoped she would find Amren and Mor.

“Unless you want them to call the cops, I’d suggest you take your hand off me.” Feyre hissed quietly at Tamlin.

Feyre began to mildly panic when Tamlin still showed no sign of letting her go, only tightened his vice-like grip on her arm. Thankfully Lucien appeared behind him and placed a strong hand on his shoulder.

“Tam we should go. People are beginning to recognise you.”

Tamlin looked like he would do no such thing when Mor breezed past him. She expertly twisted Feyre so Tamlin’s hand was removed while she wrapped an arm around Feyre, steering her towards the door.

“There you are. We’ve been looking everywhere for you, we’ll be late if we don’t hurry” She said as she ushered Feyre quickly out the door.

When Feyre looked back, Lucien had a strong grip on a very surprised looking Tamlin. Amren held the door open with the waitress as Feyre was quickly escorted out.


	13. Chapter 13

The next few days passed solemnly. Everyone was moping around as they tried to come up with a solution to their Hybern problem.

Feyre had started working at Mor’s again as she brooded on how miserably she had failed to convince Tamlin to break his deal with Hybern, but also of how much she had messed things up with Rhys.

Feyre hadn’t seen Rhys much since she had completely ruined whatever had been between them. After she came back to the store with Mor and Amren, looking visibly shaken from her confrontation with Tamlin, Rhys had been concerned and wouldn’t leave her alone until he was satisfied that she wasn’t hurt. But after that there was nothing. He had completely blown her off, deciding to give her some space she assumed. It was only in slight annoyance that Feyre remembered that it had been her who had pushed him away and told him that she needed more time and space from him. So why did she feel so lonely and unhappy now that she had what she wanted?

The only people who visited the house was Cassian and Azriel. It was becoming glaringly obvious to Feyre that Azriel mainly came to see Mor, but Cassian offered to continue training Feyre in boxing and self defence, if she was still up for it. Feyre threw all her anger and confusion into her lessons with Cassian and spent most of her other spare time at the store working. 

Mor’s wary eyes always seemed to see straight through her need for a distraction. One night as they were watching tv together Mor came straight out with it.

“Why don’t you just call him?”

“Who, Tamlin?” Feyre asked, checking her phone to see 19 missed calls from him.

Mor gave her a pointed look.

“I don’t think Rhys wants to see me Mor.”

“Of course he does. He’s just moping.”

“You didn’t see his face.”

“Feyre, I don’t like seeing him this sad and I know you won’t believe me when I say that Rhys really does like you, but you at least owe it to him to become friends again. Even if you don’t want anything more.”

Feyre groaned as Mor guilt tripped her. The truth was Feyre had felt so lonely ever since Rhys had stopped coming around, and it had managed to get rid of any doubts she had about what she wanted from him. Whether Rhys’s feelings had changed since then was another story though.

“I’ll try Mor. That’s if he ever speaks to me again…”

“Oh please, I guarantee right now he’s talking with Az and Cassian about you right now.”

“If its bothering you that much just call her Rhys!” Cassian teased, as Rhys once again had brought up Feyre.

“If you had bothered to go over there, you would see she’s just as miserable as you.” Azriel said from the kitchen.

Rhys hadn’t moved from the couch in days as he struggled to think of a way to stop Hybern, and of the things Feyre had said to him. 

“She told me very clearly that she wants nothing more than friendship between us.” Rhys complained.

Cassian whacked him hard over the head with a water bottle. “And? She’s just come out of a very abusive relationship and you’re mad that she doesn’t want to jump into another relationship so soon?”

“I’m not mad.” 

“No, but you’re whiny.” Azriel laughed. “Feyre just needs some good friends right now. When she’s ready to move on she will.”

“I know. And I’m not trying to pressure her. It’s just hard to be around her and act like I’m fine with nothing more than friends.”

“Well you’d better find a way to do it or you can kiss her goodbye.” Cassian said. “Anything would be better than you moping around here watching dorky romances all day.”

“I already told you, they just happened to be on TV.” Rhys grumbled.

“Right. Whatever you have to do to sort out your feelings man.” Cassian laughed. 

But Rhys wasn’t listening anymore. He was reading for the tenth time the eviction notice for his neighborhood scheduled for one month’s time.The letter had arrived last week and was stamped with the Hybern company seal. Time was running out.

Azriel noticed the letter and frowned at it. “When were you going to tell us about that?”

“Hopefully after I came up with an idea to stop it.” Rhys shot back.

“We could come public with the health claims?” Cassian suggested.

“You know no one cares about this part of town, or the environment for that matter. If it’ll give the rest of them more jobs and more profit they’ll turn a blind eye.” Said Azriel.

“Can we raise enough money to maybe buy Hybern out?” Cassian asked.

Rhys sighed. “We’ve already been over this, the man has more money than even I can spare, no amount of fundraising is going to help.”

The three were quiet. Unable to come up with any new ideas, Azriel began growing restless and finally said he was going to Mor’s for a bit.

“Don’t tell Feyre about any of this.” Rhys added quietly.

“She deserves to know, like the rest of us.” Azriel said sternly.

Rhys shook his head. “Mor said Tamlin would back out of the deal if Feyre went back to him. If she knows how dire the situation is… she might do it. And not because she wants to.”

Azriel and Cassian’s eyes widened slightly in shock but Azriel nodded his head and agreed to not tell Feyre.

The next day Feyre was at work when Cassian, Azriel, and to her shock, Rhys, walked in. They all nodded hello as they took a table near the counter, heads bent low in discussion.

Without needing to be asked, Feyre started making their coffees knowing off by heart all their orders. She took Cassian’s and Azriel’s over to them but with a cold look, left Rhys’s on the counter, close enough for him to see it, but also annoyingly far away from the table.

Azriel and Cassian gave him quizzical looks but Rhys was just as mystified. When he still sat there unmoving, Cassian kicked him unsubtly in the leg.

“Go talk to her.” Cassian practically growled.

Rhys immediately got up and sauntered over to the counter, doing his best to make himself look nonplussed by Feyre’s actions. He stopped just in front of the counter where Feyre was already making another coffee.

“Something the matter?” She smiled at him sweetly.

“You didn’t bring my coffee over?” Rhys asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“Whoops. Must have slipped my mind. Very busy over here.” Feyre said casually, going back to her coffee making.

Rhys was visibly uncomfortable, unable to source where her anger was coming from. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No of course not. That would have involved you actually doing something. You may as well have been dead the past few days for all I’ve seen you.” Feyre huffed.

Now it started making sense to Rhys.

“I thought that’s what we agreed to.”

“No.” Feyre said strongly as she near slammed a milk jug on the counter. Rhys took an unintentional step back as she continued. “You agreed that I wasn't ready for a new relationship and then walked away before I even said anything. You made up your mind for both of us." Rhys opened his mouth but Feyre held up an impatient hand and powered through with her rant, "Not to mention you said we should stay friends. Well, I don’t know how you’ve managed to keep any friends if you avoid all of them too.”

Before Rhys could say anything, Feyre picked up three coffees and took them out to her customers, leaving Rhys at the counter with his mouth slightly open in shock. Back at the table, Cassian and Azriel were snickering into their coffees.

When Feyre returned her face was flush with anger and she refused to meet Rhys’s eyes.

“I didn’t realise you felt this way.” Rhys said with a small smirk. “I didn’t mean to avoid you. But what was stopping you from coming over, or sending a text?”

Feyre blushed an even deeper red. “And been even more embarrassed when you threw me out of your house, or ignored my texts?”

Rhys smiled softly at her. “Feyre. I was only doing what I thought you wanted, but I may have taken it a bit too far. Can we start over?”

Feyre risked a glance up at his face and all her anger vanished as she saw how open and trusting Rhys’s face looked again. She offered him a small smile in return. “Sure. How about we start with a raise?”

Rhys laughed. “How about we start with you actually taking all your coffees out and not avoiding certain orders?” 

“What? Are you not capable of carrying out your own coffee?” She teased him. 

“Just this once Feyre.” Rhys said shaking his head, as he grabbed his cup and made his way back to the table.

Cassian and Azriel both grinned at Rhys from behind their mugs as he sat back down. “Not a word.” Rhys warned them.

The group continued to come up with strategies to beat Hybern with Feyre occasionally coming over to give some input. As it got later in the day, the store became less busy and Feyre was able to sit down with them more. Her head was bent over reading a document Cassian had brought. A stray hair kept falling into her face no matter how many times she tried to pin it back, so Rhys had cautiously reached for it and smoothed it back into the pin. His hand rested against her hair for maybe a moment too long, fingers curling in the loose strands after Feyre made no objection to Rhys touching her.

It was at that moment, with Feyre sitting amongst the Illyrian men, contently leaning into the palm of Rhys’s hand when the door swung open and Tamlin stormed in. 

Immediately all three Illyrian’s were on their feet. Rhys moved to Feyre’s side while Cassian moved her discreetly behind his hulking body. 

Tamlin noted the close proximity of Rhys standing next to Feyre and with a primal instinct, his gaze locked on him with a feral fury.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi ya so sorry for the wait, got busy then went on a mini road trip to melbourne please don't hate me x

“Tamlin? What are you doing here?” Feyre asked astonished.

She kept trying to peer past Cassian’s shoulder but Cassian could sense her trying to get around him and he kept his body firmly in front of her. Rhys stood next to Feyre, hands in pocket, a disturbingly calm look on his face and a smug smile.

When Tamlin noticed that smug smile he bared his teeth, completely ignoring Feyre to focus solely on Rhys.

Lucien moved into the store to place a warning hand on Tamlin’s arm which was angrily shrugged off. Sighing, Lucien took up a defensive position next to Tamlin, eyes dancing between Azriel and Cassian, as if sizing up which one he would take down first if it came to a fight.

Feyre tried to catch Lucien’s eye, panic building her way up her throat like bile. Lucien was decidedly ignoring her, chancing a glance filled with hatred at Rhys every now and then instead.

No one spoke or moved, like alley cats before a fight.

“Cauldron boil me.” Feyre exclaimed, shoving Cassian by the shoulder so he would move aside.

Like a spell was broken everyone relaxed a little, but when Feyre took a step forward, Rhys moved with her.

“Tamlin, if you don’t tell me what you’re doing here I’m calling the cops.” Feyre threatened.

Blinking as if in a sudden bright light, Tamlin’s eyes flew from Rhys to stare longingly at Feyre.

“You weren’t returning any of my calls or texts. I was worried.” Tamlin said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.

“I told you we were done. You don’t have to look out for me anymore.”

“I will always look out for you.” He snarled.

“And by that I assume you mean by doing whatever she asks you very nicely to do?” Rhys drawled.

Tamlin looked wary as he looked between them, his eyes narrowed to slits.

“The Illyrians.” Feyre prompted, when it didn't seem like Tamlin would respond any time soon.

Understanding dawned. “Feyre we’ve been over this. A deal is a deal. I can’t go back on my word…" He paused, a catlike predatory smile curving his lips, "Unless you were to return to me.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure Hybern would understand you double crossing him as long as you got your girlfriend back.” Cassian scoffed.

Lucien bristled and moved a step towards Cassian. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.” He warned.

Cassian’s eyes glinted viciously as he took in the threat and appraised Lucien as if he was looking for his weaknesses already.

Instantly Azriel was at Cassian’s side as they both eyed Lucien and the males took fighting stances again.

“Enough! This is ridiculous. Tamlin I’m not going with you so you need to leave. Now.” Feyre said, glancing worriedly between the two groups.

“I’m not leaving you with him Feyre. Come with me now and this will all be over.” Tamlin held out a hand expectantly like she was a dog he had trained.

Indecision gripped Feyre. She didn’t want anyone fighting over her or getting hurt. And if she just went with Tamlin she might be able to convince him to leave Hybern and save the Illyrians.

Rhys seemed to sense her thoughts and he ever so slightly shook his head at her, eyes wide in fear.

The look cost him.

As one, Tamlin and Lucien surged forward.

Cassian and Azriel acted faster, colliding with Lucien with fists and pure strength.

Tamlin moved so quickly Feyre barely had time to shout a warning before he was upon Rhys. He tackled him around the torso and the two went sprawling as Rhys’s head connected with the back wall.

Plaster showered the two as the wall where Rhys had taught Feyre to read was destroyed.

Azriel and Cassian continued to grapple with Lucien who was wise enough to keep out of arms reach of the two deadly Illyrians, effectively keeping them busy.

Feyre rushed over to where Rhys was lying, blood running freely from his forehead where it had hit the wall. He looked dazed, and showered with plaster, but otherwise unhurt as Feyre tried to staunch the blood flow with her apron.

Tamlin roared when he saw Feyre helping Rhys and before Feyre had time to turn, he had grabbed her from behind, wrenching her away from Rhys painfully.

Feyre panicked as Tamlin gripped both of her wrists with one hand, using the other to draw her to himself. Feyre dug in her heels refusing to get closer, yelling in pain as Tamlin redoubled his efforts to drag her into the circle of his arms.

Cassian looked over at her cry and didn’t see Lucien’s fist fly into his nose. A horrifying crack came from his nose as blood gushed. Azriel drove Lucien back and away while Cassian righted his nose.

Remembering her training with Cassian, Feyre moved her arms up and out, quickly driving them down to break Tamlin’s grip before kneeing him in the groin. Tamlin doubled over as Feyre danced out of his reach.

But it wasn't nearly long enough before Tamlin was rising to his full height as he slowly stalked towards Feyre again.

“Feyre, I’ve gotten better I promise, we can work this out. Just please come back to me.” He pleaded with arms reaching for her.

“Somehow I find that hard to believe when you came here looking for a fight.”

“I wasn’t expecting the half-breed to be here. I thought it would just be you and me and we could talk.”

“You don’t get to talk to me ever again Tamlin. Not after all you’ve done.” Feyre whispered in fear, as her back hit a wall.

She kept a table between her and Tamlin but she had nowhere else to run. Tamlin knew it too as he made a quick lunge for her arm by darting around the table. Feyre heaved and flipped the table, dodging his hand and driving him backwards.

Tamlin threw the table aside and made to go after her when a fist flew into the side of his face. Tamlin landed on a table dazed as Rhys prowled towards him shaking out his hand.

“I believe the lady told you to leave. Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners?” Rhys asked casually.

Tamlin only laughed. “You would know a lot about mothers, wouldn’t you Rhysand?” He taunted.

Feyre saw Rhys go rigid as his calm demeanour was replaced with a lethal rage.

“Smile one more time for me, just so we can remember what your teeth looked like before I knock them all out.” Rhys growled.

Tamlin pulled himself to his feet as he smiled mockingly at Rhys before he moved to swing at his head.

Feyre watched in mute horror as Rhys dodged punches while sending out quick jabs along Tamlin’s back and stomach. But something was wrong. The knock to Rhys’s head must have been affecting him more than he let on. He was downright sluggish at times, only just managing to avoid some of Tamlin’s quicker hooks.

Feyre got out her phone to call the police when she heard Rhys yell out in pain after Tamlin managed to sweep his feet out from underneath him. Tamlin was upon him in seconds, punching every part of Rhys within his reach.

Feyre yelled out for help and Cassian was immediately there, storming over to pull Tamlin off. With seemingly little effort, Cassian hauled Tamlin to his feet and slammed him face-first into the crumbling wall and held him there.

Rhys rose to a kneeling position on the floor, one hand clutching his head. When he looked up and his eyes met Feyre’s across the room, they were lanced with fear.

Feyre took a confused step forward as Rhys opened his mouth to yell out a warning, but it was too late as a strong pair of hands pinned Feyre’s arms to her side and began quickly dragging her to the door.

“Shh. Just come with me and the others will follow. Feyre please don’t fight me.” A male voice said close to her ear.

Feyre was too shocked to react, staring at Lucien who was still fighting Azriel across the room, and Cassian as he occupied Tamlin nearby.

Rhys tried to surge to his feet but slumped down after losing his balance.

Feyre twisted so she could see the face of whoever was holding her. She recognised the face as one of Tamlin’s friends, Bron. He made an apologetic face when he saw her staring at him with betrayal and continued to guide her firmly to the door.

Bron must have arrived after the fighting had already started, come to investigate when he heard the breaking of tables and people running from the café.

Rhys yelled out to Azriel as they passed him and Lucien. Azriel turned and tried to get to Bron but was blocked by Lucien who drove him back.

“Feyre!” Rhys called out in desperation.

Feyre locked eyes with him as she was dragged through the door and towards a waiting car.


	15. Chapter 15

Feyre became frantic as Bron shepherded her towards a black SUV with an already open door. When they were close enough Feyre used her legs to put her feet against the door and push against Bron, refusing to go in without a fight.

Bron redoubled his effort and Feyre’s legs shook with the effort to keep them straight.

Bron grunted in her ear, “Feyre, please stop. People are looking”.

“Good.” Feyre growled back, nearly horizontal as Bron tried to knock her off balance.

Feyre whipped her head to the right to see people gathering nearby with phones out, either recording her struggle with Bron, or fixed on the fight still ongoing in the café.

Feyre wanted to shout for someone to help her when a booming voice echoed down the street, “STOP! Put the girl down and step away from her”.

Relief crashed through Feyre when she looked up to see a group of policemen coming towards them, led by an enraged looking Mor.

Immediately Bron set Feyre down and took three deliberate steps away with hands raised. An officer came forward to arrest Bron while Mor rushed to pull Feyre into a bone crushing hug.

Mor was crushing Feyre’s face into her shoulder while yelling at the cops to stop staring and hurry up and get the other idiots out of her shop before they caused more damage. The remaining cops rushed inside while two waited outside, one for Bron and one to stay with a numb and shaking Feyre.

After much shouting and the sounds of more things breaking, a bloodied Tamlin, Rhys, and Cassian were led outside in cuffs followed by Lucien and Azriel who somehow barely looked dishevelled, but were throwing the other death glares the whole time.

The clicking of phone cameras were frantic as the males were forced to sit outside the shop while cars were brought over.

An officer came over to speak to Mor who was taken inside to look over the damage presumably. On the way in she threw a dirty look towards Tamlin who didn’t even notice, his singular focus only on Feyre through an already blackened eye.

“Miss, are you Feyre Archeron?” Asked the police officer at her side.

Feyre nodded quietly, unable to process that Tamlin had nearly kidnapped her.

“You’re not under arrest Miss, but I do need you to come with me to the station for a statement, do you understand?” The officer asked.

Feyre nodded again. “What’s going to happen to them?”

“Not sure yet. We just got a call about an ugly brawl and were told to intervene. We'll talk to both groups and find out what happened and who was responsible.”

The officer placed a reassuring hand on Feyre’s arm to draw her away but a loud groan had her turning back.

Rhys was sitting on the ground between Azriel and Cassian, but his head had lolled back so he was being supported by only Azriel’s shoulder. Feyre felt sick with worry when she saw Azriel try to rouse Rhys but his eyes remained firmly shut.

Holding up one finger to tell the officer to wait, Feyre then dropped to her knees in front of Rhys and placed her hands on either side of his face, trying to work out if he was already unconscious.

Tamlin surged towards her from several spots away, growling for her not to touch Rhys, before an officer shoved him back into place. A second officer gently pulled Feyre away, not unkindly. When Feyre tried to resist, Cassian and Azriel bristled but Feyre shot them a warning glance.

“He needs to go to hospital.” Feyre demanded of the policeman holding her arm.

“We’ll get someone to look at him after we’ve figured out what happened.”

“This is ridiculous. Rhys didn’t do anything, he was the one being attacked!” Feyre yelled.

Lucien was gaping at her open mouthed as she defended Rhys.

As the officer was attempting to calm Feyre down Mor came striding out of the store at all the yelling. She took one look at Feyre’s red face and quickly intervened, saying that she would take Feyre to the station and get her to cool down.

Feyre unable to fight with Mor, sighed and allowed her to walk her down the street where her car was parked. Feyre glanced once more at Rhys, Cassian and Azriel before they drove off. She felt even more worried when she realised the police had to have two of them pick Rhys off the ground because he couldn’t stand.

“Got you a coffee.” Mor said, shoving a warm, plastic cup into Feyre’s cold hands.

“Thanks.” Feyre replied, taking a long sip.

“Woah, slow down there. That stuff’s hot. Didn’t you just burn your whole mouth?”

“Didn’t notice.” Feyre mumbled.

They were sitting in the front room of the police station, Mor and Feyre had both already given their statements, Feyre getting heated when they suggested she may have been leading Tamlin into thinking they were still together and inciting the whole fight.

“That doesn’t give him the excuse to kidnap me!” Feyre had argued back.

After that the man had apologised and continued to listen to her quietly.

Mor wanted to charge for any damages that her shop had sustained, which from her icy glares towards the room holding Tamlin, must have been a lot.

Azriel was let out first.

“For being compliant and remaining calm.” He said, a small smile aimed at Mor as she fussed over him. “Can’t guarantee Cassian will get out as quickly.”

Lucien emerged next.

Azriel and Mor were on their feet in seconds. Lucien cut a quick glance at them before turning sad eyes to Feyre.

“Feyre I don’t even know where to begin-”

“How about you don’t?” Mor hissed.

Red seeped onto Lucien’s face as he grew more ashamed. But Feyre held out a placating hand to Mor and Azriel, stepping closer to Lucien to allow him to talk.

“You have one minute Lucien. Be quick.” Feyre warned him.

“I should never have let this happen and I’m sorry. Tamlin has been out of control… he has been for a while if I'm honest.” He quietly added. “I’ll make sure he leaves you alone.”

“That’s if Feyre doesn’t place a restraining order.” Mor scoffed.

“Mor please, it’s alright. Lucien’s a friend.” Feyre said soothingly.

Lucien nearly flinched. “No, she’s right. Tamlin doesn’t think rationally when he’s around you. And I’ve been a terrible friend lately Feyre. I should have done something months ago.”

“Lucien, don’t go back with him. Find somewhere else to stay. Maybe Mor can help you?”

Mor hid a snort in the background as Lucien just looked at her with a sad smile, “You know I can’t do that Feyre. He’s my oldest friend and he needs help right now.”

Feyre knew Lucien had next to no family left that actually liked him and Tamlin had taken him in. Lucien really didn’t have anywhere to go if he were to leave.

Feyre took his hand gently and told him softly, “It’s up to you Lucien, but if you ever need to, call me. We can help you find somewhere else to stay.” Feyre promised.

Lucien gave her a small smile and gently squeezed her hand, then he looked curiously at Feyre’s two apparent bodyguards. “I thought you said your boss’s name was Morgan?”

Feyre laughed, surprised he remembered. “Well what else is Mor short for?” She asked, turning to look at Mor.

Mor looked mockingly offended, “Some friend”, she laughed.

“It’s short for Morrigan.” Azriel said, looking amused.

A door nearby opened and Cassian appeared, stopping dead in surprise when he saw Lucien near Feyre.

“Well that’s my excuse to leave. See you round Feyre.” Lucien muttered quickly as he left in the opposite direction.

“What was that about?” Cassian growled. 

“Nothing. Feyre handled it.” Mor quickly said before Cassian could get into another fight.

“Any word about Rhys?” Feyre asked Cassian.

“They haven’t told me anything. I was hoping you could tell me actually.”

Just then, an officer came over to inform them that after questioning the others they had decided Rhys was free to go and they had already escorted him to hospital for a check up.

“What about Tamlin?” Feyre asked.

“He’s being detained for further investigation. He’ll probably be charged for at least one of the accusations.”

“Good.” Mor said darkly before the group was ushered outside.

The police waiting room was swapped for a hospital waiting room as the group waited impatiently for a nurse to come back with news about Rhys. Mor was on her phone when she gasped.

“What?” Azriel asked, instantly at her side.

“Look what Amren sent me.” She said, holding out the phone for them to all see.

Dozens of photos, videos and articles about the incident were online. Witnesses had recognised both Tamlin and Rhys and realised that by selling the footage they could earn a few coin. Articles speculated what had caused the fight, suggesting money, business, and to Feyre’s horror, she saw photos of herself with big question marks asking who the mysterious girl was.

Feyre groaned and put her head into her hands, wanting to just disappear. She was saved from thinking too much about her new fame by a nurse telling them they could see Rhys now.

They entered a small room that struggled to fit them all in. Rhys was lying in bed, heavily bandaged around his forehead, but with both eyes open and smiling at them all as they fought to get in the door first.

“Man, you look uglier than usual.” Cassian said, dryly.

“Had to give you a fighting chance with the ladies when we go out.” Rhys quipped back. 

“How do you feel?” Mor asked, interrupting them.

“I apparently have a concussion.” Rhys said mildly, while waving a hand airily as if it meant nothing to him but a minor inconvenience.

His eyes hadn’t stopped scanning the room until he finally saw Feyre half hidden behind Cassian who had barged in before her. She saw him visibly relax once he had looked her over and been unable to find any injuries. It made Feyre feel even more guilty.

“Apparently?” Azriel asked.

“They said I hit my head pretty hard, but I don’t remember. And that seems like something pretty important I should remember.”

Cassian laughed. “That’s like, the main symptom of a concussion.”

“There also happens to be a Rhys sized hole in my back wall.” Mor said grumpily. 

“I also have a pretty big lump on the back of my head so that could explain it.” He mused, his violet eyes locking on Feyre again, seeming to ask a question.

“Will you be allowed to leave?” Azriel asked.

“Sure. They just said I can’t sleep if I have any more symptoms.”

Back at Rhys’s house, Feyre had remained quiet. She knew she should apologise to them all for the trouble she had brought on them again and again, but she couldn’t form any words.

Cassian and Azriel had left to go and piece together the shop while Mor quickly waved goodbye to her. She was going to go and collect their stuff as they’d all be staying at Rhys’s just in case.

“Don’t you need me to come and help?” Feyre asked.

“Amren’s already got most of our things. Besides someone needs to watch Rhys, I’m not convinced he should be allowed to sleep yet, he seems a bit unsteady on his feet.”

So Mor left Feyre in the house with a concussed Rhys.


	16. Chapter 16

Feyre entered the living room shyly.

“I made you some tea.” She said quietly.

Rhys looked up from the TV to smile warmly at her. Feyre offered him the tea and stood awkwardly next to the couch.

“Did Mor ask you to babysit me?” Rhys teased.

Feyre hesitated. “Sort of. But Rhys, I mostly wanted to apologise for all the trouble I’ve caused.”

Rhys immediately waved her off. “Feyre darling this is what family does, look out for each other.”

To Feyre’s horror she found herself beginning to tear up and her throat closing over. Feyre had her own family. But they had never made her feel so apart of something so intricate and wonderful like Rhys and his friends had.

Rhys seeming to sense this added soothingly, “Sometimes your family chooses you, Feyre. None of us really have our own blood families anymore, so we made our own.”

“What happened to everyone else’s?”

Sighing Rhys patted the seat next to him for her to join him.

“Cassian never really had a family, they abandoned him for whatever reasons. Azriel had a terrible step mother and siblings who abused him so he got away.”

Feyre nodded, suddenly understanding the horrible scars she had seen on Azriel’s hands.

“I’ve never really had the guts to ask about Amren’s family, all I know is that they are far, far away. And Mor…”

Here Rhys hesitated, a dark shadow crossing his face.

“Mor is from a powerful family, they saw her as only a political tool to be wielded and gain more power. They arranged a marriage for her, to a brother of Lucien’s actually.”

Feyre gasped. From all that Lucien had told her, his family sounded like sadistic villains from a film.

“One night she met up with Cassian, knowing if her… virtue was compromised, especially with an Illyrian like Cassian, Lucien’s family would disown her and the marriage wouldn’t go ahead.”

“She went to Cassian, not Azriel?” Feyre asked innocently.

“Ah. That is something I have never asked Mor about, and if you wish to keep your head, I’d suggest you not ask either. Those three will work it out.”

“So after that, her family let her go live with you?”

“Not exactly. They beat her for her disobedience. That’s when we got her away from them. We should’ve done it much sooner.”

Raw guilt showed on Rhys’s face and Feyre couldn’t help but reach her hand out to grip his.

“You did what you could Rhys. For all of them. For me. I think I understand why Mor hates Tamlin so much now.”

Rhys looked down at their intertwined hands with wonder in his eyes before replying.

“For the record we all hate Tamlin, but yes, Mor understands you a lot more than I think you give her credit for.”

“What about you?” Feyre asked curiously.

“What about me?”

“Tamlin… mentioned something about your mother earlier. What was that about?”

Feyre expected Rhys’s face to shut off. Block out what was clearly a sensitive topic for him. But surprisingly, he turned more towards her and gave her hand one more squeeze.

“I had a mother and father, they loved me very much, my little sister too.”

Feyre had to fight to keep the shock off her face. Sister.

“Where are they?”

“Dead.” Rhys said matter of factly. No hint of emotion.

Feyre didn’t want to probe for answers, but she so desperately wanted to know what had happened. Wanted to know why Rhys never mentioned his family. Out of all of his friends, Rhys had actually had a family he cared about, one that was taken from him all the same.

Feyre waited patiently for him to go on. When shadows had stopped haunting Rhys’s face and he had composed himself he continued, giving her hand another squeeze which Feyre was sure was a thank you for waiting.

“It was a few years ago. They were driving home from a dinner that I was supposed to be at too, but I had meetings. A drunk driver hit them on the freeway. The car flipped, killing everyone inside. My father, mother, and sister.”

Feyre had her hand over her mouth in horror. “Rhys, I’m so sorry-”

“There’s more.” Rhys quietly interrupted.

Feyre immediately went silent, wondering how this story could get any worse.

“The drunk driver… was Tamlin’s father. His family was in his car too. I don’t even know why they would have allowed him to drive when he was so clearly drunk.” Rhys said angrily. “Tamlin’s parents and brothers all died at the scene, Tamlin was thrown from the car and somehow didn’t die. He was the only survivor.”

Feyre felt like she was about to throw up. She couldn’t say anything. Offer up any condolences.

After several moments of silence she became aware that Rhys was tracing small, soothing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb, doing his best to calm her. After all he had just told her, Rhys was the one calming Feyre.

“I can’t believe he threw that in your face today.” Feyre said disgusted.

“I’ve had worse said to me about it.” Rhys said shrugging indifferently, but Feyre could tell from the tightness of his shoulders that the comment had bothered him.

“I’m sorry for bringing him back into your life.” Feyre added quietly.

Rhys laughed softly. “You don’t have to apologise all the time Feyre. Besides if it brought you to us, I don’t mind in the slightest.”

Feyre blushed as the intensity of Rhys’s stare hit her and she had to look away.

Rhys looked like he was about to say more when his phone rang. It wasn’t very loud but he winced and leaned away from the noise. Feyre grabbed it when he made no move to answer.

“Mor?” Feyre asked when she saw the caller ID.

“Hey Feyre. Is Rhys okay, why didn’t he answer?”

“He’s fine, I was just closer to the phone.” Feyre said, glancing at Rhys worriedly who now had his head in his hands.

“Okay, well I just called to say that Amren and I are nearly done packing and will be home soon.”

“Great! See you soon then.” Feyre said quickly before hanging up, not wanting Mor to ask questions and worry about Rhys.

“Rhys?” Feyre asked quietly.

Rhys groaned and rubbed his forehead. “I’m fine, sorry. I just have a headache.”

“Do you want some pain medication? The doctor gave us some in case you had any pain.”

Rhys nodded slowly.

Feyre scrambled off of the couch to get her bag. She read the label that advised he should have two tablets before handing them to him, which he gulped down with his tea.

“Thanks.” Rhys said smiling at her, when a funny look crossed his face. “Feyre, what did they give me before I left the hospital?”

“They gave you something before you left?” Feyre repeated.

Rhys nodded slowly. “Something for the pain.” He said.

Feyre quickly read the label again which had a very big warning on it that said you couldn’t take more than two tablets every 6 hours.

“Are you telling me you’ve had four of these in about an hour?” Feyre asked in horror.

“I mean probably? I forgot the nurse gave me something. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Rhys said waving off her concern.

“Rhys! We should probably take you back, these are really strong, they’re not just your average over the counter tablets!” Feyre said, a shrill panic in her voice.

“It’s nothing. I do feel a bit tired though, I might go to bed.”

“Oh no you don’t." Feyre chided. "Mor specifically didn’t want you falling asleep.”

“The nurse said I was fine to sleep.” Rhys frowned like a grumpy child.

“Only if you didn’t have any symptoms! And you have a bad headache.”

Rhys staggered to his feet. “You worry too much Feyre, I’m fine.” Rhys slurred his voice, almost like he was drunk, before losing his balance and careening into an armchair.

“Rhys!” Feyre shouted.

She moved forward to help him but Rhys had already straightened up again and was moving towards the doorway.

“Rhys, slow down. You’re going to injure yourself.” Feyre couldn’t help but laugh despite trying to sound serious, when Rhys bumped into the doorframe and then apologised to it.

Rhys made for the staircase with Feyre trailing after him like a lost puppy.

“Rhys please, you won’t make it up the stairs. Just come sit back down on the couch.”

Rhys ignored her and made it all of two steps up before he lost his balance and began windmilling his arms to stay upright. Feyre surged forward to keep him from falling. She sighed to herself, if Rhys was determined to go upstairs then she would have to help him.

She threw one of his arms over her shoulders and took most of his weight.

“Okay, lean on me and I’ll help you get up.”

Rhys grinned stupidly at her as he realised he was getting his way. The two made their way up slowly, Rhys almost falling several times but Feyre always managed to pull him back in time, once having only a hold on his jacket.

When they finally reached the top of the stairs Feyre was flushed and sweaty from the exertion. Rhys seemed to find this endearing as he brushed away stray hairs from her face.

He grabbed a vase with flowers in it from nearby and offered it to her, Feyre wasn’t sure if he was offering her the flowers or water, but she accepted them anyway laughing.

Rhys, looking pleased with himself for making her laugh, grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hallway.

Feyre quickly found a place for the vase of flowers before allowing Rhys to drag her away. She had never been upstairs before. When she realised that Rhys was taking her to his room she hesitated.

Even in his drugged up stupor, Rhys could feel her hesitation so he stopped just outside what was presumably the door to his room.

“You can wait for the others downstairs if you like.” He said.

But Feyre knew Rhys would never leave her alone if she was in his state. And Mor had asked her to keep an eye on him. So Feyre shook her head and reached past Rhys to open the door.

Rhys immediately toppled in, catching himself just before hitting the ground.

Feyre laughed. “Maybe you should sit down.”

Rhys sat on the edge of his bed, lifting a suggestive eyebrow at her, “Only if you join me Feyre.”

Feyre laughed again at how ridiculous he sounded, trying to flirt while not being able to keep his eyes focused on her. Nonetheless, Feyre moved to sit next to him.

Feyre looked around his room curiously. It was mostly minimalist, decorated with dark furniture with flashes of silver. There were a few photos of him and Mor or with Cassian and Azriel, and one of a young girl with dark hair like him and piercing violet eyes. Feyre looked away quickly.

Rhys leaned back into a mountain of pillows and closed his eyes with a content smile on his face.

“Oh no you don’t. No sleeping!” Feyre said, pinching his arm.

Rhys screwed up his face in mock pain but opened his eyes to watch as Feyre took off her shoes so she could also lie down. She was close enough to feel his body heat, but not close enough to actually touch him.

“Well if I can’t sleep, what can I do?” Rhys asked, a faint whine in his voice.

Feyre pondered this seriously before her eyes lit up. “Read to me.”

Rhys huffed. “All the books are downstairs.”

“Then tell me a story. Make one up.” Feyre teased.

Rhys smiled back, closing his eyes as he began a story about a girl who married a prince, never seeing his face. Every night he would come to her in darkness and warned her that she should never look upon his face. But one night the girl became too curious and lit a candle after he fell asleep, revealing the form of a beautiful man.

Feyre felt like she was in a trance, listening to the soft tone of Rhys’s voice who was telling the story expertly with great memory, as if the story had been told to him many times.

Rhys explained how an evil faerie had cursed the man to remain in an animal form by day, and becoming human again at night until someone loved him, despite never seeing his face. When the girl saw his true face he was forced to return to the evil faerie in a castle east of the sun and west of the moon.

The girl managed to track the castle down and was tricked out of meeting her prince several times over, but eventually after completing a task, she wins back the prince and the evil faerie is killed.

At some point Feyre had begun yawning and her head had dropped until it rested on Rhys’s shoulder.

“Am I boring you that much?” Rhys laughed.

“No! That was a great story, I’m just really tired.” Feyre rushed to assure him.

“I mean it’s not like I’m complaining about this.” Rhys said, looking down at Feyre and reaching an arm around her to pull her closer.

Rhys seemed to be holding his breath as he waited to see if Feyre would pull away. Instead, Feyre rested an arm on his chest and turned her face closer to his shoulder so her voice was faintly muffled when she asked what the story was called.

“East of the Sun and West of the Moon.” Rhys told her. “My mother used to tell it to me when I was young.”

Feyre desperately tried to remain awake but exhaustion lined her every limb after all the stress and worry that had happened that day, and Rhys was so warm next to her. She lost a fight to contain a yawn and Rhys smiled at her.

“You can sleep if you want.” He said softly.

Feyre shook her head. “Mor… told me… to watch you.” She mumbled tiredly.

“I won’t sleep. I promise.”

Feyre sighed as Rhys tucked a blanket around her, keeping himself on top of the covers. He began quietly telling her a new story, and this time when Feyre’s eyes closed, they didn’t open again.


	17. Chapter 17

Feyre woke warm and rested. The most well rested she had been in weeks. She stretched her legs out lazily like a cat until she realised the warmth next to her was from a body. Rhys’s body.

He still had one arm curled protectively around her. With his free hand he stroked her arm idly.

“Is it morning already?” Feyre asked, yawning.

Rhys laughed softly. “More like afternoon.”

“What?” Feyre bolted upright.

Rhys laughed again. “It’s okay Feyre, you needed the sleep and I couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”

“What about the others?”

“They arrived late last night and settled in.”

Feyre moved to get up but Rhys made a sound of protest and tried to hold onto her for a few moments longer.

Feyre laughed. “Rhys, we have to get up. The others are probably wondering where I am.”

“Oh, I’m sure Mor told them.” Rhys said with a grin.

Feyre looked at him sharply. “What?”

“Mor looked for you as soon as she got here and when she couldn’t find you in your room, she came in here. You were snoring softly I think, so she left.”

Feyre pouted. “I do not snore.”

“Just a little.” Rhys insisted, flicking her on the nose. "It's quite adorable actually."

“What does Mor think happened last night?” Feyre asked quietly.

Rhys’s grin disappeared as he looked at Feyre seriously. “I told her I had too much pain medication and you were worried about leaving me alone, so you stayed in here. That’s all.”

Feyre sighed.

“I’d never say anything happened between us if it didn’t Feyre.” Rhys said, his tone completely serious, and Feyre thought she could hear the slight tinge of hurt laying underneath.

“I know. I didn’t mean it like that, I just hoped you explained that to Mor so she didn’t get the wrong idea.”

“Didn’t want her to think you’re not as innocent as you look, you mean?” Rhys asked with a wink.

Feyre threw a pillow at Rhys so quickly, he didn’t have time to stop it before it hit him in the face. “Prick”.

Rhys only laughed and pulled Feyre to her feet so they could go downstairs.

“Ah, there they are.” Cassian said with a smirk.

“Don’t even think about it Cassian.” Feyre warned him quickly, before Rhys got the chance.

“I wasn’t saying anything. We were all just wondering what time you’d emerge today. If you emerged at all.” He said suggestively.

“Cass.” Rhys growled.

Cassian only looked delighted by the response he was getting from Rhys and Feyre as he smiled into his coffee.

Mor changed the topic, “Feeling any better Rhys?”

“I feel fine now. We should keep working on how to stop Hybern.”

“No time to waste.” Azriel agreed.

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that every time we turn on the TV there’s a video of Rhys getting the crap kicked out of him by Tamlin?” Amren drawled.

“He caught me by surprise.” Rhys mumbled.

“Can we use the fight against Tamlin somehow?” Feyre asked.

Mor shook her head. “Already talked to the police, told them we’d drop charges if he broke off his business deal with Hybern but Tamlin didn’t take my offer. He’ll probably get some fines but nothing too much for him to worry about.”

“That’s all? He nearly kidnapped Feyre.” Rhys said in shock.

“The police said there wasn’t enough evidence.” Mor replied.

“Bullshit.” Azriel growled.

“He’s got the police force under his thumb.” Amren added.

Feyre got her phone out and did a quick search for some of the articles while the others fought more about how much control Tamlin really had over the city.

Eventually Rhys sauntered over to read over Feyre’s shoulder.

“Enjoying your spotlight?” He asked with a wry smile.

Feyre shook her head. “No, but look at this.” She held out the phone for Rhys to read the comments under a few of the articles. “People seem to be on our side, they don’t trust Tamlin’s story.”

Rhys looked at her blankly, a question in his eyes.

“So, what if we use this to expose Tamlin’s deal with Hybern? Show the city that he doesn’t have their best interests at heart.” Feyre continued.

Understanding lit Rhys’s eyes. “We essentially ruin all of his credibility.”

“His business partners would abandon him.” Cassian added, coming over to join Feyre and Rhys.

“This could work.” Rhys nodded.

“But how do we encourage public dissent?” Azriel asked.

“We do interviews, call some reporters.” Mor said.

Rhys had gone quiet. When he felt Feyre’s eyes on him he met her stare with a sad smile.

“We could ruin him even further.” Rhys said slowly.

“How?” Chorused the others.

Rhys only looked to Feyre before saying, “If, and only if, Feyre agrees, she could come out about the abuse.”

“Rhys-” Mor began before being cut off by Rhys.

“I know it’s a terrible thing to throw out to the media, everyone will have something to say and the victims are often publicly crucified. But the rumours alone would destroy Tamlin. He would never be able to recover from something like that. People would support us, listen to us.”

Feyre felt all eyes go to her as they let her think about what Rhys was saying. It was a big decision. One she wasn’t sure she wanted to go through with. But when Feyre thought about all that she had put Rhys and his family through, what they had done for her, she realised there really was no choice. For them she would do anything.

She nodded her head. “I’ll do it.”

The others sighed in relief, and Mor reached out a hand to grip her own.

“I’ll start contacting people.” Amren said before leaving to go upstairs.

“I’ll do the same.” Azriel said before also disappearing.

“I’ll make you some breakfast, why don’t you go sit down and just relax for a bit Feyre?” Cassian offered.

Feyre nodded her head and made her way to the living room with Mor and Rhys.

“He doesn’t always use his words to show feelings, but making food for people is as close as Cassian gets to saying ‘thank you’, or 'I love you’.” Mor laughed.

“I’ll tell him he’s getting too soft on me later.” Feyre laughed.

“Do that, and you’ll pay for it the next time you spar with him.” Rhys said grinning.

“We really can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing Feyre. It means a lot to us.” Mor said sincerely.

Feyre looked at Mor, knowing about her family life now, Feyre knew Mor really did understand her hesitation to go public and it made her love her friends more for not pushing her to do it if she didn’t want to.

Feyre hugged Mor, and a stunned Mor hesitated before she hugged her back warmly. When they pulled apart, Mor murmured something about things she had to take care of and quickly left the room.

Feyre looked to Rhys confused.

“I think being near you sometimes reminds Mor of her past too much. She’ll be fine.” Rhys promised, before reaching for her and also pulling her into a hug.

Feyre gripped the back of Rhys’s shirt hard as she realised the enormity of what she would do to Tamlin. She pressed her face into Rhys’s chest trying to hide her eyes beginning to tear up.

Rhys held her tighter and stroked her hair soothingly.

“I know. I know.” He whispered to her over and over.

After the panic had subsided, Feyre pulled back enough to look Rhys in the face.

“Do you think it’s wrong of me to use him like this?” She asked.

“Not at all. From your suffering, you’ll be able to help people Feyre. You could also help other people who feel trapped in a bad relationship.”

Feyre nodded. But the sick feeling in her gut refused to go away. “I just wanted this to be over.” She said sadly.

Rhys gently brushed away the tears on her face with his thumbs before replying, “I know. We all did. But he’s not going to stop until we properly end this Feyre.”

Feyre closed her eyes, leaning her face into Rhys’s hands more and moving her body closer to his. She heard Rhys’s sharp intake of breath as she slid one hand to cup the side of his face and the other slid up his neck.

Rhys’s hands stilled on her face and Feyre opened her eyes to see Rhys’s face barely inches from her own. His eyes looked unfocused on her as their breath intermingled.

Feyre desperately wanted him to move again, yearned for his hands moving soothingly against her skin. As if seeing it in her eyes, Rhys brushed his thumb once more across her cheekbone before tilting his head to the side and brushing his lips softly against her own.

When Feyre tilted her head further back, allowing Rhys better access to her lips, his hands moved to her waist to pull her flush against him. But to Feyre’s disappointment, his mouth remained soft and gentle on hers. So Feyre instead reached behind the back of Rhys’s neck to pull her down to him roughly and immediate.

Rhys growled softly as his lips became more insistent, and Feyre encouraged him by gently tugging on his lower lip with her teeth.

A deep, guttural noise came from the back of Rhys’s throat as his hands began exploring Feyre’s lower back, dipping dangerously downwards. Feyre arched her back in pleasure, but Rhys’s hands moved quickly so they were skimming her thighs now, instead of where Feyre had been trying to navigate them towards.

“Not yet.” He whispered teasingly against her lips.

Rhys’s hands traced lightly across her thighs making Feyre lift her head as his light touches tickled her. Her throat was exposed as Rhys broke off their kiss. Feyre made to try and reclaim it when Rhys’s mouth moved to her neck instead.

Feyre had to close her eyes as he lightly kissed up the column of her throat and moved towards the tender skin underneath her ear.

Rhys had subtly begun moving them both towards the couch when the loud sound of the doorbell ringing had them drawing reluctantly apart.

Rhys looked down at Feyre smiling idiotically while she blushed and tried to smooth down her hair from where Rhys had messed it up.

They were still standing side by side, the backs of their hands lightly touching, when they heard Cassian speaking loudly with the person at the door.

From the way he was talking, it sounded like he was joking but things had quickly turned heated and Rhys glanced worriedly at Feyre before making his way into the hallway.

Feyre followed, dread pooling in her stomach thinking that maybe Tamlin had come for her again.

When she looked past Rhys, she saw Cassian standing by the open door with an arm across it, barring the person from entering. His shoulders were bunched in anger but his face looked calm, if not a little bit smug as he argued with whoever had rung the doorbell.

Feyre looked at the girl, red faced with anger, as she shouted something at Cassian, before she turned her attention to Feyre.

Feyre gasped with recognition.

“Nesta?”


	18. Chapter 18

Feyre and the rest of the gang were sitting in the living room. Feyre occupied the couch, in between Rhys and Mor, sitting opposite a hostile looking Nesta. Feyre couldn’t believe her sister had found her. Nesta looked as out of place in Rhys’s house as a camel in a blizzard.

Nesta sat in an armchair, glaring at Cassian when he stared at her for too long, with a devilish gleam in his eyes and mouth that seemed to quirk upwards in a challenge.

This was not going to be fun.

Mor had brought Feyre a cup of tea which she desperately needed after the shock from seeing her sister after months of not hearing anything from her.

“So, Nesta is it? It’s nice to meet you.” Rhys said, holding out a hand to an aggravated looking Nesta.

Feyre looked at him in surprise and was grateful he was even attempting to talk to her beast of a sister.

Nesta pointedly ignored Rhys’s hand and looked to Feyre instead.

“Where the hell have you been?” She asked angrily.

Feyre was taken aback to say the least. “Me? You’re the one who never contacted me.” She said trying to defend herself.

“I called you for weeks! You never picked up.” Nesta said icily.

Feyre looked at her blankly until she remembered Tamlin had given her a new phone when they’d moved in together. “I got a new phone… Tamlin said he was going to give you my new number.”

“I don’t care if you got a new phone, you could’ve called us. Elain and I were worried.” Nesta had gone strangely quiet.

Feyre could feel the eyes of everyone flitting back and forth between her and her sister, trying to figure out what kind of relationship they had and why Nesta had appeared now.

“I just assumed you didn’t want to talk to me.” Feyre said softly. It was something she had believed all these months. She had been made to just feel like she was always in the way back home. She was unneeded. She refused to believe she was unwanted though.

“You think we honestly wouldn’t care when you disappear off the face of the earth with some guy who’s paying us money every couple of weeks? It was like we sold you or something, it was really weird Feyre.”

Feyre felt embarrassed now. Why hadn’t she just tried to call them? She had assumed that Tamlin had taken care of her family and she wouldn’t need to worry about them now. She was out of the way.

When Feyre didn’t say anything Nesta continued, “Or are you too good for us now that you have a fancy boyfriend? Don’t need us anymore I guess.”

“I think there has been a misunderstanding here." Rhys said calmly, holding one hand up in caution. "But don’t you dare think that Feyre never thought about her family, or that she was living in some fairytale these past few months.” Rhys said in his lowest, and most dangerous voice.

“Well, if she had just talked to us we would actually know what to think.” Nesta snarled back.

“Please, just stop." Feyre interrupted quickly. "I’m sorry I never called Nesta. I thought you’d be better off without me anyway.” Feyre said lamely.

A strange look crossed Nesta’s face, and Feyre almost thought it looked like guilt, before it vanished and was replaced with her usual frown.

“How did you find us Nesta?” Mor asked curiously.

“I googled Tamlin. He came up straight away. I mean there’s not many guys around here called that.”

“You went to his house?” Amren asked alarmed.

Nesta nodded and the group looked at each other in shock.

“What?” Nesta asked annoyed. “Was I not supposed to go to her boyfriend’s house?”

“Nesta what happened? Did you see Tamlin? What did he say-” Feyre asked quickly before Rhys’s hand over hers reminded her to slow down.

Nesta’s calculating eyes took special interest in Rhys’s hand on Feyre’s, but quickly seemed to dismiss them as she continued with her story.

“He wasn’t home. His friend was though. Odd guy. Bright red hair.”

“Lucien.” The group said in unison.

“Okay that was freaky, don’t ever do that again.” Nesta said. “I told him I was Feyre’s sister and I wasn’t leaving until I saw her. He got really weird and told me I had to leave before Tamlin came home. Gave me this address and told me you were here.”

Feyre felt a surge of gratitude for Lucien. But Nesta was avoiding talking about something, Feyre could tell by the way she was fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“Why did you decide to come now?” Feyre asked.

“What, did you want me to wait 10 years before I finally came to see what became of my sister?”

Feyre just looked at her pointedly until Nesta finally sighed. “Okay, fine the money stopped coming, but I promise it’s not just about that!” She said quickly when all eyes turned feral with rage. “I saw you on the news Feyre. You lot too. Involved in a big fight, the news said it was something about a turf war. I was worried! I thought you were in trouble with gangs or something.”

When the male’s hands failed to unclench from their formed fists, Nesta eyed them warily and added, “I’m still not convinced you’re not in some kind of gang.”

Feyre laughed at the idea of Rhys being a gang leader. “It’s not a gang. These are my friends.”

“Just friends?” Nesta asked, glancing at Rhys.

Feyre blushed but made no move to correct her, instead she explained first about Hybern’s plan to completely ruin the area and make the Illyrians either homeless, or very, very sick.

After hesitating slightly, Feyre was able to get out her past few months with Tamlin. When she struggled to open up about some parts, a few reassuring thumb strokes on the back of her hand from Rhys helped calm her again. When she tried to explain what had happened at the café and she couldn’t find the words, Rhys’s knee nudged hers gently to encourage her.

Nesta listened to it all with no comment. But she did look at the others with a little less animosity. Except Cassian. She still looked at Cassian like she would like to knock all his teeth out, and Cassian looked at her like he knew and would love nothing less than to see her try.

Feyre paused expectantly at the end for Nesta to say something.

“What a bastard.” Nesta said simply, as if she was commenting on the weather.

“An apology would have been better.” Cassian said.

“Excuse me?” Nesta bristled.

“An apology. To Feyre. She needs one.” Cassian enunciated slowly as if talking to a toddler.

“Cassian, it’s alrigh-” Feyre began uneasily before Nesta’s indignant screech cut her off sharply.

“Apologise for what you overgrown ape?” She snarled.

“You came in here acting like you were better than her. Like she was a runaway stray dog you had to come looking for. Then, you accuse her of thinking she’s better than you, when you had no idea half the shit she was going through.” Cassian said through gritted teeth.

“Well, you have no idea what I went through just to get to her. So back off and mind your own business you ass!”

Feyre buried her head in her hands while Rhys, Azriel, and Mor looked between the two helplessly as they continued to bicker for several minutes. Amren was covering a small smile with her hand as she watched with interest.

An hour later, Cassian had gone to his workout room to sulk, and Nesta claimed his larger armchair for herself, while the others helped Feyre reply to emails sent to her by reporters for websites and newspapers.

Some of the questions sent to her were so intrusive and offensive it started getting to Feyre after a while.

Mor took one look at her and declared work time over. “Let’s go have some fun!” She said to the group.

Rhys rubbed his eyes wearily. It was then that Feyre realised he hadn’t slept last night. “Mor we have enough things to worry about right now.” Rhys said.

“Exactly! We should go out.” She said excitedly.

“I wouldn’t mind a break.” Azriel said, agreeing non-surprisingly with Mor.

Amren groaned. “Ugh, not another night out. Someone either ends up missing, in hospital, with a new tattoo, or all three.”

“Rhys can’t drink with his concussion anyway, so he can be the Mom for tonight and watch us.” Mor explained.

“This sounds like it’ll be more trouble than it’s worth.” Rhys sighed, but he already had a wicked gleam in his eye.

“What if we run into… people we know.” Feyre asked quietly.

Mor waved off her concern. “Tamlin wouldn’t dare set foot over here, he has his own trashy clubs to go to. I don’t think he’s ever even been to Rita’s.”

“I’m down.” Cassian said, emerging from the hallway suddenly.

“Have you been eavesdropping?” Amren asked amused.

“No. Just went to the kitchen to get a drink.” Cassian said too quickly.

“What do you think Feyre? Nesta?” Rhys turned to them.

“Yes,” Feyre said at the exact same time that Nesta said, “No”.

Feyre turned wide, imploring eyes to her. “Nesta you should come, the neighbourhood is really nice and it would give you a chance to get to know every-”

“No.” Nesta interrupted. “I’m tired, and I’ve come a long way.”

“Wimp.” Cassian muttered challengingly.

“What did you just call me?” Nesta said slowly.

Feyre rolled her eyes at Rhys who had to hide his resulting smile.

“Bet you just can’t hold your alcohol.” Cassian teased.

“Better than you I’d bet. You’re so full of yourself there’s no possible room for alcohol.”

“It’s on then. Everyone meet down here in 20 minutes.” Cassian said leaving an open mouthed Nesta glaring a hole into his retreating frame.

“What just happened?” Nesta asked, turning back to them confused.

“You just accepted a bet to beat Cassian at drinking.” Rhys smiled at her, amused. He reached out to squeeze Nesta’s shoulder reassuringly. “Good luck.”


	19. Chapter 19

Rita’s was smaller than Feyre had imagined. But, it was still a far nicer club than Feyre had ever been to.

She had borrowed an outfit from Mor, seeing as she had next to no clothing with her. Mor insisted she wear a plain, black dress that would have been boring if not for the strategically cut sheer panels that made it a lot more scandalous.

Feyre at first thought it was too much, but was glad Mor had talked her into it when she came downstairs and had seen the look on Rhys’s face.

His eyes had widened slightly and dropped to the inch high black heels Mor had also lent her for the occasion, before slowly roving up her body, drinking in the sight of her once. Twice. Three times, before he was finally satisfied and offered her a beaming grin.

Cassian wolf whistled at her while she flipped him off which he then pretended to catch it as if she had blown him a kiss instead.

Cassian had made no comment when Nesta came down, in a slightly nicer pair of jeans but the same baggy shirt she had arrived in.

They had all walked to the club together, and Feyre had to pretend she was used to walking such distances in large heeled shoes. When she stumbled, Rhys held out his arm to link with hers, taking most of her weight.

Now, she was sitting with Rhys in a booth along with Azriel and Mor. Mor had bought them all a variety of brightly coloured shots and was divvying them up between the three of them.

“You’re supposed to drink this?” Feyre asked, holding up a bright blue drink to examine it.

“Yes! It tastes good… just make sure you have a chaser.” Mor giggled, already tipsy.

“Chaser? I don’t have one.” Feyre said, but panicked when Mor and Azriel already started their rounds, making Feyre gulp hers down anyway.

“Let’s go dance!” Mor said to Azriel, pulling him from the table and slamming her four empty glasses down.

Feyre watched them go, smiling to herself.

“Where did Nesta go?” Feyre asked, suddenly turning to Rhys.

He was leaning against the back of their booth with one arm stretched across it. A perfect imitation of a casual laziness, but it masked the protective glint in his eye when he saw other males appraising Feyre from across the room.

Rhys pointed now across the room to the bar, where Nesta and Cassian were already undoubtedly arguing, obvious even from so far away. An array of empty cups littered the bench in front of them.

“What’s the bet neither of them make it out of here conscious?” Feyre mused.

She’d had to bring her mouth up to Rhys’s ear in order for him to hear her over the loud music. Not that he seemed to mind. 

He turned to appraise her again. “If you’re not careful, you won’t either Feyre darling.”

“I’m fine.” Feyre insisted, a little bit offended.

“Care for a little game then?” Rhys purred in her ear.

Feyre smiled at him and nodded.

Rhys looked towards Amren who was leaning against a wall, just on the edge of the dance floor, a look of extreme boredom on her face.

“We take it in turns to get men to approach Amren.” Rhys grinned wickedly.

Feyre glanced again at Amren, who had just bared her teeth menacingly at a man who had slowed down when passing her on his way to the bar.   
“Something tells me Amren wants to be left alone.”

“There’s no fun if there isn’t a little risk.” Rhys purred.

“Okay, I’m in. What happens when we get someone to poke the tiger?”

Rhys pondered this for a moment. “Every time I convince someone to talk to her, you have to do a shot.”

“Okay, but what about every time I get someone to do it?”

“Well I can’t drink… What do you want from me Feyre?” Rhys whispered in her ear.

Feyre felt her ears burn and go red and she couldn’t meet Rhys’s gaze.

“What do you want Feyre?” Rhys repeated slowly and sensually, enjoying seeing her squirm.

“Baby photos.” Feyre said abruptly, and hiccuped.

Rhys pulled back in surprise. “What?”

“I want to see what you looked like before this.” Feyre said, indicating Rhys’s whole body.

Rhys laughed. “I really don’t know if this is a fair bet, I would say you’re already drunk.”

Feyre frowned at being laughed at. She didn’t feel that drunk.

While Rhys was still laughing, Feyre slid out of the booth and strode over to a nearby male. Rhys stopped laughing when she ran her hand slowly along the male’s back and shoulders.

The male turned around confused, but quickly his face changed to pleasant surprise when he took in Feyre and saw her smiling invitingly at him. She crooked a finger at him so he would bend down to her and she whispered in his ear. The male looked up and saw Amren. She would have been quite beautiful if not for the permanent glare she had adopted since arriving at Rita’s.

The male shrugged, and Rhys felt like he had to have already had a few drinks for the confidence and lack of fear alone, as the male sauntered over anyway.

Feyre watched curiously as he began talking to Amren. Amren immediately shooed him away with a look of irritation.

Feyre quickly made her way back to Rhys before Amren could spot her. Rhys was no longer sitting in a relaxed manner, to Feyre's amusement. His back had gone ramrod straight and his jaw was clenched. His eyes still trailed the male who had returned to the dance floor with his friends.

Feyre patted his hand mockingly. “Alright, so that’s one album I get to see.”

“Album? I don’t think so. I'll agree to one photo.” Rhys said, finally turning back to face Feyre.

“What? That’s not fair!”

“I think it’s very fair. You’re using unfair… advantages to get them to do what you want.”

“Are you jealous Rhysand?” Feyre said, imitating Rhys’s purr.

“That’s beside the point. The rules stay. One photo.” Rhys turned to eye off people walking by. “My turn now.”

The first male Rhys approached seemed flattered by Rhys’s attention at first, before they realised he was asking on Amren's behalf. The male flatly refused, but gave Rhys a wink before he left.

Feyre collapsed into a fit of giggles while Rhys returned defeated, but remained unfazed by the other male.

“It happens sometimes. I'm not surprised that I'm attractive to both genders.” Rhys shrugged when Feyre finally stopped laughing and asked him about it. “I’m more mad that I chose completely the wrong person to ask.”

Feyre tried the same tactic on her next victim who willingly fell into her trap, lulled by her voice like a siren. Amren seemed surprised to find yet another male in front of her asking for attention. She turned him down swiftly as well.

Rhys picked more wisely for his second male, this time he managed to convince a male in a leather studded jacket to make a move on Amren, who appeared mortified to be receiving such attention.

Rhys laughed when Amren yelled something at the male when he tried to pull her onto the dance floor.

“Isn’t this a bit mean?” Feyre asked.

"Of course not. Amren has done much worse to us over the years.“ Rhys laughed. "Don’t tell me you’re trying to get out of your drink.” He said, while pulling her over to the bar.

Nearly an hour later, Feyre had managed to convince two more unsuspecting males to talk to Amren, while Rhys had unbelievably managed another four.

“It’s only because you’re so good looking.” Feyre slurred at him, waving about a new drink and managing to spill most of it.

“I could have said the same about you.” Rhys whispered to her from behind, his arms rising to rest on the bar on either side of her body and caging her in. For once though, Feyre did not feel trapped.

Feyre leaned back into Rhys's body. The hair on the back of her neck rose at feeling him so close behind her. 

His lips had barely brushed Feyre’s ear when a menacing growl sounded behind them.

“You two!” Amren snarled.

Feyre and Rhys whirled around to see tiny Amren, hauling over effortlessly a male, who was well over six feet, by the ear over to them. The male also happened to be Rhys’s most recent victory.

“Amren. I see you’ve received our little gifts.” Rhys said smoothly.

“Gifts? Rhysand I swear I’m going to-” Amren began, but the rest of what she said was lost to the music as Rhys grabbed Feyre’s hand and ran.

They quickly weaved through the crowded club and managed to throw Amren off their tail. Feyre laughed as Rhys helped her remain upright on her clumsy feet.

“That was close.” Rhys said, head craning to look back over the crowd.

“Too close.” Feyre agreed.

Nearby, chanting started up. Some drinking game had begun and Feyre looked over curiously.

“Rhys, tell me I’m so drunk that I’m hallucinating this.”

“What?” Rhys asked, before following Feyre’s line of vision and laughing.

At a nearby table, a crowd had gathered around an inexplicably shirtless Cassian. Nesta was also being cheered on while wearing Cassian’s shirt wrapped around her head like a crown. Feyre also thought she spied Nesta’s bracelet being used to tie Cassian’s hair back.

Rhys and Feyre made their way over to observe. A bartender carried over two new glasses full of a green liquid.

Cheering ensued and Feyre was about to ask why, when the bartender pulled out a lighter, and set the two drinks aflame.

“Oh my god.” Feyre gasped as she saw Nesta fearlessly reaching for one cup. “I can’t watch this.” She said, turning her face into Rhys’s shoulder, but still watching through her peripheral vision.

Nesta raised the cup to frenzied chanting and downed it in one gulp. Nesta raised her chin defiantly to the crowd as she turned to Cassian.

Cassian did not look good.

He was visibly sweating and if he wasn’t hanging onto the table like a lifeline, Feyre thought he may have already been on the floor.

But Cassian saw the challenge in Nesta’s eyes and gripped his own flaming cup. He raised the cup to his mouth, and before the liquid could even touch his tongue, Cassian was racing for a nearby pot plant. Feyre didn’t watch as Cassian’s stomach refused to accept any more alcohol.

Nesta stood on the table and raised her arms triumphantly to ecstatic cheers.

“She is made from something else.” Rhys said, eyeing Nesta fearfully.

Feyre however, had now decided that she also did not feel so good. It had been a while since she had drank this much and this quickly. The world seemed to blur and the room rotated as Feyre’s eyes focused and unfocused.

She only had time to mutter, “Rhys”, before she felt the room tip sideways and she was falling.

There was no hard impact though. Feyre was vaguely aware of warm, soft hands holding her.

“I don’t feel well.” Feyre mumbled.

“Alright, I think you’ve had enough for tonight.” Rhys said soothingly.

He effortlessly propped Feyre back on her feet and kept an arm around her middle as he led her over to the bar and asked for some water. Rhys let go of her for one minute while he grabbed the bartender’s attention and the water.

Feyre made a distressed sound and Rhys turned back to see another male with his hands wrapped around Feyre’s waist. She was pawing away his hands but she was sloppy and the male knew it.

Rhys stalked over, trying not to shatter the glass of water in his hand.

“Let. Her. Go.” He said menacingly.

Rhys’s voice was so unlike the one she had ever heard him use with her, that Feyre barely recognised Rhys’s animalistic snarl.

The other male took one look at Rhys, and wisely let Feyre go.

Rhys waited until the other male had disappeared, before immediately pulling her to him, burying his face in her hair.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured over and over.

Feyre however was unfazed now that she was back in Rhys's arms, and was instead trying to unsuccessfully reach for the water in his hand.

When Rhys finally raised his head he had cooled down somewhat and realised he was still holding her glass of water. He offered it to her and Feyre gulped it down quickly.

When she’d emptied it she held it up sadly, tilting the last drop out. “More?” She asked Rhys sweetly.

This time when Rhys went to the bar, he kept an arm firmly around Feyre and while they were waiting for her water, he stared down any male, and even females, who came too close.

After several glasses Rhys decided Feyre needed to sleep it off so he guided her to the bar’s entrance.

“What about Nesta?” Feyre asked, slumping against Rhys.

“Amren’s got tabs on everyone, she’ll get them all home. I’m more worried about you right now.”

“I think Cassian needs help the most. That poor plant.” Feyre laughed.

On the way out Azriel spotted them and he grabbed Mor to come and talk to them.

“Jesus Rhys, what did you do to her?” Mor asked, red faced from dancing.

“Feyre lost a bet.” Rhys said plainly.

“How much has she had?” Azriel said, eyeing Feyre.

“Not that much. I didn’t think she’d be such a lightweight.” Rhys glanced down worriedly as Feyre’s eyes floated around the room, unable to focus. “I feel terrible about it actually.”

“We’ll be home soon, look after her Rhys!” Mor called to him, pulling Azriel back to dance with her.

It became glaringly obvious to Rhys that Feyre could not walk home the second they left the club. When there were no people around to jostle them, and they had a lot more open space, Rhys was able to tell just how disoriented Feyre was.

“Alright, try not to vomit.” Rhys muttered as he grabbed Feyre and swung her up into his arms.

Feyre squealed and squirmed in Rhys’s arms.

“Hold still. What are you doing?” Rhys asked in an annoyed tone, but he was smiling, until Feyre’s arm smacked him in the face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Feyre cooed. 

She held her cold hand to Rhys’s face where there was already a red mark appearing.

Rhys sighed but continued walking. Feyre kept stroking his cheek until her hand stilled, making Rhys glance down in alarm. But Feyre had only fallen asleep, with her hand still tucked against his face.


	20. Chapter 20

Feyre’s head was throbbing and pounding like there was still loud music playing nearby. Her head felt so disconnected from her body that she wondered if it was even still attached to her. That was until she tried moving an arm to cover her face from the faint light of morning, and found that she was incredibly stiff and sore.

Feyre could have lied down, tucked into the warm, clean sheets all morning if her mouth wasn’t as dry as a desert, and her tongue as rough as sandpaper.

Her hand blindly reached out searching for her bedside table where she normally kept a glass of water, but instead hit something soft and fleshy, and very much alive.

Feyre yelped and jolted upright. She relaxed when she saw Rhysand sprawled across her mattress, mouth open and eyes shut, clearly dreaming.

He was still fully clothed and had half kicked off the blanket he had taken from the end of her bed.

Feyre registered she was wearing a baggy, oversized t-shirt that was definitely not her own.

When Feyre tried to remember the bar last night, all that came up was her and Rhys playing their game with Amren, and Nesta beating Cassian at drinking. Much of whatever happened afterwards was a blur.

A rising sense of nausea and a sickly heat had Feyre scrambling from the bed and running to the bathroom as her stomach punished her for all the alcohol she had consumed.

Feyre sat huddled over the toilet bowl as her sweat slicked hands gripped the bowl until her vomiting subsided.

She thought she had been quiet until a soft padding of footsteps told her otherwise. A warm hand pulled back her hair while the other rubbed her back and shoulders soothingly.

“Morning.” Rhys said sleepily, while quickly planting a kiss on the top of Feyre’s head.

Feyre groaned back in response which made Rhys chuckle.

“If it’s any consolation, I think Cassian is having an even worse morning than you.” Rhys laughed.

Cassian’s room was near Feyre’s and they shared the same bathroom wall, which meant that Cassian could probably hear her throwing up right now. That was if Cassian was even conscious.

Feyre wiped her face with some toilet paper that Rhys handed to her.

“You did this to me.” Feyre said groaning, faint accusation in her voice as she rested her forehead on the cool outside of the toilet bowl.

“I never did anything to you, this is your own fault.”

Feyre went silent before asking, “Did you change me?”

“As fun as that would have been, no. You insisted you could do it yourself and I had to leave the room. It took you three times to finally get the shirt on the right way, and not inside out.”

“Is this your shirt?” Feyre asked, eyeing the gray material.

“Maybe.” Rhys shrugged.

“Why?”

“You asked to wear it, and I obviously didn’t mind.” Rhys said, glancing down at her exposed legs.

Feyre groaned at how embarrassing her drunk self was. “Sorry, I guess I must have been a handful last night, huh?”

Rhys just smiled at her softly, “It’s repayment, for you looking after me the other night and making sure I didn’t do anything stupid.”

“Did I do anything else… stupid?”

“You were fine. Perfectly well behaved.”

“Really?” Feyre asked surprised.

“No.” Rhys laughed. “When I got you home you refused to go to bed until I’d made you pancakes. You then dropped the entire bag of flour and decided to paint with it. You also kept touching my hair and saying how much you liked it.”

Feyre curled into a small ball on the floor and hid her face from Rhys. “You can just kill me now. It’s okay I’m ready.”

Rhys instead pulled her to her feet and convinced her to go to the kitchen and try to eat some food.

In the kitchen Feyre was surprised, and a little afraid, to see Amren and Nesta sitting together and talking easily.

Amren offered them a small wave when they entered but otherwise ignored them for her conversation. Nesta however, looked up and locked eyes with Feyre before her eyes flitted to the shirt she was wearing and how it was so obviously not her own.

Feyre tugged at the hem of the shirt that reached her mid thigh self consciously, and wished that she had changed into something else before coming down. But it was too late now.

“How’s Cassian?” Rhys asked.

“He wakes from his coma long enough to hurl his guts up before slipping back under.” Nesta grinned at them.

“I’m glad someone taught him a lesson for once.” Amren muttered.

“Maybe I should go ask if he wants a coffee or something?” Feyre asked.

Behind the counter, and out of view of Nesta and Amren, Rhys wrapped an arm around Feyre’s waist and tugged her closer.

“He’ll be fine, he just needs to sleep it off.” Rhys said into her ear.

Feyre blushed as she felt Nesta’s eyes lock on them again.

“What happened to you two last night?” Nesta asked suspiciously.

Amren cut a glare at the two of them. “Well, I know what they were doing before they disappeared.”

“No hard feelings Amren?” Rhys asked winking, and which Amren pointedly ignored.

“I didn’t see you leaving the club.” Nesta tried again.

“That’s because you were too busy drinking flammable liquids.” Feyre quipped back.

“Feyre was a bit tipsy so I brought her back home to sleep.” Rhys added, when Nesta looked like she would question further.

“I suppose she also doesn’t own her own pyjamas, so you brought her some of yours too?” Nesta asked with a sardonic grin.

At this Rhys sputtered while Nesta turned to Amren who grinned back at her.

“Are Mor and Az home?” Feyre asked quickly.

“Yeah, they came back just before dawn.” Amren answered.

Just then, a news report came on the television that had everyone racing to get closer.

A headline was flashing across the screen as well as a photo of Tamlin which read, “Tamlin claims abuse rumours a false accusation”.

“This ought to be good.” Amren rolled her eyes.

Feyre’s eyes were glued to the screen as Tamlin appeared on camera being interviewed by a reporter.

“Were you and Feyre Archeron in a relationship?” The reporter asked.

“Yes, we’d been together for several months.” Was Tamlin’s monotone response.

“And did you attack her?”

“Absolutely not. I loved her.” Tamlin’s response was adamant.

“Then why would she spread these accusations?” The reporter pushed.

“Because she was using me for my money. I was supporting her family who lived in another town but I recently stopped after she abandoned me. She must have gotten mad and decided to get revenge.”

Feyre’s blood was boiling as she witnessed Tamlin lying on national television. She reached out to take Rhys’s hand for support which he squeezed back.

“She also mentioned that you were backing a deal which could potentially destroy a whole community?” The reporter asked.

“That’s ridiculous, why would I take part in anything like that knowingly? I am very charitable and always give back to communities.”

Feyre was disgusted and made to turn off the TV when it switched to footage captured on a cell phone of her and Rhys leaving Rita’s. She watched in horror as she was clearly drunk and unable to walk, with Rhys swinging her into his arms before they disappeared from view.

A voice over from the reporter cut in, “Clearly Feyre Archeron attracts the attention of very wealthy and influential men, seen here leaving a night club last night with the infamous Rhysand. Can we really trust her word?”

“What just happened?” Feyre asked in shock when a new segment started.

Amren quickly shut off the TV, leaving them in silence.

“He’ll pay for this.” Rhys growled, still staring at the TV as if he could see Tamlin.

“No. Getting into another fight isn’t going to help anyone.” Feyre said, rubbing her temples.

Quick footsteps from the hallway alerted them to Mor and Azriel entering.

“We just saw the news!” Mor said horrified. “Feyre I’m so sorry this has happened.”

“It’s fine. We knew this could happen.” Feyre said trying to remain calm, but her voice broke on the word fine.

“We just need to discredit him further.” Azriel suggested.

“Yeah, find someone, a witness maybe?” Mor agreed.

Feyre listened to them all argue it out while she retreated into her own thoughts. The reporters didn’t have to use the crude and sexist words that everyone would now associate her with, as they did with most abuse victims who came forward to confront their abusers. 

Gold digger. Man eater. Slut.

She sat down on the couch and stared numbly at the ground trying to sort out how she felt.

Rhys continued to talk to the others while shooting her worried glances, but giving her some space to think.

When the doorbell rang everyone jumped.

“I’ll get it.” Azriel said.

They all listened quietly as Azriel answered the door. He spoke so quietly that Feyre couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she thought she heard him dangerously growl “Get out”.

Eventually two sets of footsteps echoed down the hallway and Azriel reappeared looking angry and wary. When Azriel stepped out of the way Feyre saw why. Standing behind him was Hybern.

Rhys was immediately in front of Hybern, standing face to face with him as he did everything but outright snarl and bare his teeth.

“You are not welcome here.” Rhys said growling.

Hybern simply smiled slowly. “How nice it is to see you again Rhysand. Shame about your house, nasty business that. But for once I am actually not here to see you.” Then Hybern turned his dark eyes to look directly at Feyre.

Rhys noticed the look and took an impossible step closer to Hybern so they were practically nose to nose.

“Leave her out of this.” He said dangerously.

“I just want to talk to the lovely Feyre. I promise, just a moment or two.” Hybern smiled sweetly.

The compliment only angered Rhys further who looked like he was one word away from throwing a punch.

“Rhys it’s okay. I want to hear what he has to say.” Feyre interrupted.

Rhys whipped his head to look at Feyre and the moment he saw her, his eyes softened and he stiffly nodded, moving away to stand back by her side.

“Impressive.” Hybern whistled. “Do you know how many years I have tried to train a mutt like that?”

“It isn’t too late for me throw you out of here. Say whatever it is that you want, and then leave.” Rhys warned.

Hybern held up two hands in surrender. “Alright. I simply wanted to ask Feyre to drop her ridiculous allegations.”

Amren scoffed. “And why would she do that?”

“Because I asked her very nicely.” Hybern smiled sweetly at Feyre, but Feyre could see the rottenness underneath, and the threat that was thinly veiled.

“…And if I don’t?” Feyre challenged.

“Well. I’d lose a lot of money if Tamlin was unable to fulfil his part of our deal due to… unforeseen circumstances. It would be quite terrible for my staff. Bad things happen to people who are laid off and can't find more work after all. You may even know some of my staff, I recruit from all sorts of places.” At this, Hybern smiled wickedly and Feyre had an uneasy feeling in her gut.

“Either tell us what you mean, or get out.” Rhys snarled.

“Manners Rhysand. I know your mother taught you, what would she say if she could see you now?” Hybern taunted, and it broke Feyre’s heart to see Rhys’s composure break a little.

“Enough. Tell me whatever it is you came here to do or I’ll call the police.” Feyre demanded angrily.

Hybern sighed dramatically. “If you kept a closer eye on your own family members Feyre, you would already know.”

Feyre’s heart plummeted. She glanced at Nesta confused. Nesta had her brow furrowed and looked like she was furiously trying to solve something.

“Just tell me already!” Feyre practically shouted.

“Tamlin was so very kind to pass along some details when I mentioned I needed a new receptionist. Elain is a very diligent worker.” Hybern bragged.

Feyre started shaking in anger but it was Nesta who spoke to Hybern.

“If you hurt her-”

“I would never hurt an innocent girl. Neither would any of my business partners, including Tamlin. But, as I said, bad things happen when I lose money. So many workers lost.” Hybern said sadly, and turned on his heel to stride back out the front door.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone seems so worried about Elain being brought into this *insert 'you know i had to do it to em' meme* sorry!

After the door closed behind Hybern there was utter silence in the kitchen. Feyre felt like she was one shock away from a cardiac arrest and Nesta looked the same, if not worse.

“I know how this looks, but we can still fix this.” Mor said confidently.

Feyre just stared at her blankly. 

“Who’s Elain?” Amren whispered to Rhys loudly in the background.

“Sister.” Was the only explanation Rhys gave, his eyes trained solely on Feyre.

“How do we know he actually has Elain?” Cassian asked.

“I’m not willing to bet my sister’s safety just in case that bastard was lying.” Nesta hissed through gritted teeth.

“But you were willing to risk Feyre’s when you were being sent cold hard cash by a man you'd never even met.” Cassian sniped back.

Mor and Azriel began to intervene in their argument while Rhys drew Feyre away from the others. He pulled her over to the bench seat by the window and made no comment when she pressed her forehead against the cool glass in an effort to calm herself.

He began fidgeting the longer the silence passed between them until Feyre sensed he could contain himself no more.

“Are you okay?” He asked her quietly, out of earshot of their friends who were still trying to stop an all out fight between Cassian and Nesta.

“No. Nothing about my life is okay right now.” Feyre responded, realizing too late how that might sound to Rhys.

She opened her eyes just in time to see Rhys mask the hurt behind his eyes. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, meeting Mor, Cassian, Azriel, and even Amren, has been one of the best things that has ever happened to me.” Feyre paused and impossibly lowered her voice even more before adding, “And you. I can't thank you all enough for what you've done for me.”

Feyre heard Rhys’s breath hitch and he looked up to meet her eyes.

“I know what you meant. It just kills me to see you like this. That despite all we’ve done, it still hasn’t been enough.”

“Rhys, you can’t beat yourself up like this, it’s not your fault. Without you I’d still be with Tamlin.”

Rhys nodded but Feyre could still see the dark thoughts lying beneath his calm demeanor. She needed to soothe him but didn’t know the right words. So, instead she moved closer to him so she could lean her head against his shoulder, and wrap an arm around his broad torso. Rhys leaned into her as well, entwining his arms around her waist and resting his chin on the top of her head.

Feyre relaxed with her back against Rhys’s chest, just listening to his steady breathing until she also felt calm. She felt her eyelids beginning to droop and would have fallen asleep if Nesta’s loud voice, booming from across the other side of the kitchen hadn’t woken her from her stress induced dream state.

“Are you two going to help us or what?” 

Feyre blinked rapidly like she had just emerged from underwater while Rhys straightened. Feyre didn’t need to see his face to know he would be glaring at Nesta for disturbing them. His hands had tightened marginally on her hips and Feyre pulled herself to her feet before Rhys could retaliate.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” She whispered to him when he still looked like he wanted to throttle Nesta.

“Mor was saying something about a witness before?” Feyre said to the group, making an effort to reengage in conversation.

Mor nodded. “It shouldn’t be hard to find witnesses from the fight, they can back up what we said about Tamlin coming to us and starting everything.”

“I just still feel like we need something stronger.” Azriel said.

“The nurse.” Rhys said to himself.

Six heads turned to look at him. “There was that nurse that was concerned about Feyre the last time she was in there. Remember Mor? She thought it was me who had hurt Feyre, we could ask her to confirm it was Tamlin.”

Mor looked uncertain. “I don’t know Rhys, I’m not sure they’re just allowed to disclose information like that, and there was no reason for her to think it wasn’t you.”

“Well, Feyre hasn’t been in there since she’s been with us and the nurse knows that.”

“We don’t even know her name.” Mor tried again.

“I do. Her name is Alis.” Feyre said quietly.

“Well it’s settled then, I’ll take Feyre with me to the hospital and see if we can talk to her.” Rhys said. 

Mor threw up her hands in exasperation. “Okay, but what are we going to do about Elain? If Hybern hears we’ve been sneaking around… it could be bad.”

“Az, do you still have friends within his company?” Rhys said, turning to Azriel.

Azriel nodded. 

“Get in contact with them and see if they know anything about Elain. We need to find out where she is and where she’ll be. Then we might be able to speak with her and get her away.”

Azriel left immediately to begin making some calls. 

“The rest of you try to get in contact with the media again and see if you can do anything to stop the rumours that Tamlin made up.” Rhys said while grabbing his car keys. 

Feyre quickly got up to follow Rhys out the front door before he left her behind in his urgency.

Once they arrived at the hospital Feyre was less certain about their decision.

“What if she’s busy Rhys? I mean she is at work.” 

“If she’s busy we just go back home. But, it’s worth a try.” Rhys assured her.

They went inside and Rhys spoke to a receptionist who noticed Feyre and eyed her with recognition, although Feyre was unsure if it was from seeing her face on the news, or just from being in the hospital so frequently. Feyre was beginning to get quite the reputation.

“No there’s no emergency, we were just wondering if we could speak to one of your nurses? Her name is Alis.” Rhys said smoothly, putting every ounce he had into charming the receptionist.

The receptionist regarded Rhys coolly, with absolutely no hint of attraction to him. 

“She’s busy. This is a hospital you know.” She said blandly.

“Please, this is really important, perhaps you could do me a favour this one time?” Rhys tried again.

The nurse looked to Feyre with a bored look. “Does your girlfriend care that you blatantly flirt with other girls right in front of her?”

Feyre half snorted as Rhys turned red in the face. “It’s not… I don’t…” He spluttered. 

The nurse seemed to be enjoying herself as she told Rhys, “Your girlfriend would have had more luck trying to persuade me.” 

“Please. Can you just mention that the girl she used to look after, Feyre, is here and needs to speak with her.” Rhys begged.

The nurse regarded Feyre with more interest after hearing her name and sighed, telling them to take a seat and that she would send a message, but she couldn’t promise anything.

“Thanks.” Feyre said to Rhys when they sat down.

Rhys didn’t respond but grabbed her hand, resting it upon his armrest where he could easily hold on to her.

After what felt like hours, a soft voice called out to them.

“Feyre?” Alis asked, approaching them warily.

Feyre jumped to her feet, in shock that she had actually come.

Alis looked her over head to toe, checking to see she was okay, before noticing Rhys standing protectively behind her.

“I thought I told you to keep her out of here.” Alis said sternly to Rhys.

“I have been. Feyre’s not injured, we just came to speak with you.” Rhys defended himself.

“We need your help.” Feyre said to Alis.

“I’ve seen the news. I know you’re in all kinds of trouble. But I don’t see how I can help you.” Alis said warily.

“We need you to make a statement about the abuse Feyre suffered when she was with Tamlin.” 

Alis started shaking her head. “No, I won’t be a part of this media circus.” She said as she began turning away.

“Wait! Please. It’s not just about protecting my image. Tamlin’s about to ruin a lot of lives and we need to prove that he can’t be trusted. My sister is in danger because of this.” Feyre said in desperation.

Alis stopped mid-stride but didn’t face them.

“If you say nothing, he will get away with this. And he’ll send more girls here like Feyre. Girls you could have protected.” Rhys said darkly.

Alis’s shoulders dropped and she whirled to face them, striding right up to Rhys’s face. 

“I’ll do it. But not because you threatened me, which I am kindly going to ignore. I’m doing this because I hated seeing Feyre come in here week after week with no one caring about how she kept getting injured. I hated seeing her too scared to say anything that would get that prick in trouble because she thought she loved him. There’s nothing I’d love more than to see him ruined.”

“Thank you.” Feyre said softly.

Alis turned to Feyre surprised. “Just don’t let me catch you in here again.” The older woman mumbled.

Feyre laughed and hugged Alis who looked mildly uncomfortable but returned the gesture. 

“I have to get back to my shift, but leave me the number of someone to contact about releasing a statement.” Alis said waving them off before accepting a piece of paper from Rhys.

“That went better than expected.” Rhys said to Feyre as they left the hospital. 

“It doesn’t solve anything if Hybern still has Elain though.” Feyre said solemnly.

“We’ll find a way Feyre.” Rhys promised her.

When they reached Rhys’s car Feyre heard her phone ring. She looked at the caller ID and was shocked to see Lucien’s number.

Rhys looked over her shoulder and cursed. “Don’t answer it.” He warned.

“It could be important.” Feyre argued back.

“Or it could just be another way for Tamlin to talk to you.”

“I told Lucien I would help him if he was ever in trouble, he might need our help.”

Rhys finally nodded in agreement and Feyre rushed to answer the phone.

“Lucien?” She asked hesitatingly, scared it would be a different voice that answered.

“Feyre!” Came Lucien’s relieved, but frantic voice. 

Relief washed over Feyre and she noticed Rhys also relax when she wasn’t alarmed.

“Are you okay?” Feyre asked Lucien.

“Me? What, of course I am." Lucien said in obvious confusion. "It’s just… Your sister Elain is here.”

“We know.” Feyre said sadly.

“We had no idea Hybern would bring your sister into it I swear, but I don’t think Tamlin can do anything about it now anyway.” Lucien said in a rush. “But I don’t like this Feyre. I don’t like it all.”

“Have you seen her? Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine. I’ve been looking after her here at the house-”

“She’s at Tamlin’s?” Feyre asked in horror.

Rhys swore under his breath behind her.

“Nothing is going to happen to her Feyre, I promise you. I’ll protect her with my life.” Lucien told her.

It slightly worried Feyre to hear the absolute conviction in Lucien’s voice but she didn’t have time to question him about it. 

“I need you to do more than just watch out for her Lucien. Hybern threatened her directly.” 

Now it was Lucien’s turn to swear. Feyre could practically feel him at war with himself as he tried to find a solution.

“I drive her to work sometimes when she doesn’t go with Tamlin. I could take her to you instead, the next time I’m alone with her.” Lucien said in a whisper.

“What will happen to you when you go back?” 

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll be fine as long as she’s safe.”

Now Feyre was really worried about how Lucien felt for Elain but she put it down to him just feeling guilty about what he had allowed her to go through.

“Lucien, thank you.” Feyre said with as much kindness as she could muster. “You could come too. Stay with Elain if that’s what you want…” Feyre finished uncertainly.

But a loud bang cut off whatever Lucien’s reply was and he had to quickly whisper to her, “I have to go.” 

Feyre listened to the end beep tone, signifying the end of the call as she prayed Lucien was alright.


	22. Chapter 22

A few days whirled anxiously past Feyre as she awaited news from Lucien that he would be able to get Elain to them soon. Feyre’s nails were chewed almost to the point of bloody, and she only ate when Rhys and the others reminded her to, or she would have forgotten.

Nurse Alis had come through with her promise to release a statement about Feyre’s many trips to the emergency room, courtesy of Tamlin, and the media had whipped itself up into another frenzy over the new information.

As a result, Tamlin had been very quiet lately. The messages to Feyre from him stopped, and he must have started paying off reporters who snapped photos of him or had started asking questions about how he was running his business. Hybern had also been eerily quiet which worried Feyre as they had gone against his order to drop the accusations.

The others continued to make calls to media outlets or friends within companies, doing whatever they could to slow down Hybern’s plans. But Feyre felt it was all useless unless they could get Elain out of the crossfire.

Rhys had tried to distract her by taking her for walks, or out for lunch, but even those had come to a stop as reporters constantly hounded them. Sometimes even waiting on the footpath outside to ask them questions when they left the house.

“How long do we have until the eviction?” Cassian asked, when they were all sitting in the living room one afternoon.

“Two weeks if we’re lucky.” Mor grumbled.

“We’ll think of something.” Rhys said, deep in thought.

Feyre thought he looked paler than usual and she cursed herself for not remembering when the last time he ate was.

“What did the lawyer say when you last met up with him Azriel?” Amren asked.

“He said that gaining public support won’t be enough to stop Hybern, we need to outbid his project as well.”

“So we outbid him.” Mor said with conviction.

Azriel only shook his head. “I’ve seen what we’d need to raise in order to outbid Hybern. Even if we bled all our bank accounts dry, including Rhys’s, it just isn’t enough.”

“Can’t you get other Illyrians to donate some money?” Nesta asked, sounding bored. She had draped herself along one of the only large couches in the room, forcing Feyre and Rhys to both occupy practically one armchair, with Cassian sitting on the floor.

“They don’t have anything left to donate.” Rhys explained.

“Okay but haven’t you guys ever heard of a fundraiser?” Nesta asked again.

“Rhys already told you that the Illyrian community has nothing left to give.” Cassian replied dangerously.

“That’s why you invite rich snobby people who have so much cash they don’t know what to do with it.” Nesta shot back pulling a face at Cassian.

Rhys leaned forward with interest. “I’m listening.”

“Have a big party or something and invite every rich person in town because they love getting dressed up and telling other people how important they are. Not to mention Feyre is a pretty popular person right now, I bet they’d practically claw each other to death to talk to her.” Nesta said the last bit with the slightest amount of poison which made Feyre’s face go sour at the idea.

“If we charged everyone an entry fee, had a bar, food, other services… we might be able to reach that target after all.” Azriel said with a hesitant smile.

“That was a great idea Nesta.” Amren said.

“Thanks, now let’s hear Cassian say it.” Nesta said sitting upright so she could see Cassian better.

Cassian’s face was stony as he glared at her. “What do you want me to say, that for once you didn't say something dumb?”

“Nothing could be as dumb as your face.” Nesta replied icily.

The group rolled their eyes and automatically changed body positions to face away from Nesta and Cassian’s bickering.

“We could invite the media too, get a lot of attention for this and get half the town to attend.” Rhys continued as if the interruption had never occurred.

“Do I really have to talk to all these strangers?” Feyre asked, only half mockingly.

Rhys turned to her and squeezed her hand. “It’ll only be for one night. And I’ll stay with you the whole time.”

Feyre offered him a grateful smile and squeezed his hand back.

“Please let me plan this party!” Mor interrupted quickly. “I’ll organise a venue, decorations, a band, entertainment-”

“Just remember this is to raise money Mor, not spend all of it.” Rhys cut in quickly.

Mor just clicked her tongue at Rhys in disapproval. “Of course. I’ll be asking generous donors to help us cater for and to provide a venue for our Charity Gala. I can be very persuasive when I want to be.” Mor beamed.

“Charity Gala?” Amren sputtered.

“Well we want this to seem like a grand event don’t we?”

“I can help organise a guest list.” Azriel added helpfully.

“How soon can we plan this?” Rhys asked them all.

Mor looked thoughtful. “If everyone helps out… four days.”

“Four days?” Amren, Azriel, and Feyre all yelled. Cassian and Nesta were still arguing in the corner of the room too absorbed in each other to take part in the conversation.

But Rhys looked pleased as he looked at his cousin, nothing but trust and respect in his gaze for her.

“What about Elain?” Feyre asked quietly.

The group was silenced. Even Nesta turned her attention away from Cassian to listen.

“We just have to hope we hear from Lucien soon.” Amren eventually said.

“And if we don’t? It’s not like it’s your sister in danger, as long as you save your own asses, right?” Nesta hissed.

“Don’t be stupid, girl. Feyre is our sister now, and so is her family.” Amren declared.

Cassian snorted. “Don’t tell Rhys that.”

Rhys flashed Cassian a crooked grin but didn’t correct him.

“As long as Feyre is our friend, we will always look out for her and her family.” Amren continued, gaze boring into Nesta’s until Nesta finally nodded in submission.

Mor got to her feet suddenly. “Well let’s get started then! We don’t have much time!”

Feyre hadn’t been given a specific task so she mostly shadowed the others, doing tasks for them, making calls, but never leaving the house. The others left as they pleased but the reporters waiting outside hassled and grabbed at Feyre every time she tried to open the front gate.

Cassian had nearly knocked one of them out the first time a man with a large camera had grabbed Feyre’s wrist in an effort to stop her. So Feyre had stayed indoors. Willingly though.

She was hunched over the kitchen table two days later, face screwed up in concentration over decoration plans that Mor wanted her opinion on, when her phone began ringing from an unknown number. Cautiously Feyre answered it.

“Hello?” She asked.

For a moment there was silence and Feyre nearly hung up when a chillingly familiar voice replied.

“Ah Feyre. I thought we had an agreement.” Hybern drawled from the other end.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Feyre said, slowly rising to her feet. Panic gripped her as she left the kitchen in search of anyone in the house who could help her.

“I’ve been hearing quite the gossip lately. First there was something about a nurse, claiming to support your wild stories about mistreatment.”

Feyre reached the living room only to find it empty so she turned and practically ran for the stairs.

“Now I hear something about a gala your… friends are hosting. A charity event no less. It really is shameful of Rhysand to ask for others to donate their own money in order to get what he wants.” Hybern continued, as Feyre reached the upstairs hallway.

“Nearly as shameful as forcing a whole community to leave their homes, or live in dangerous conditions for the rest of their short lives.” Feyre snarled back.

Hybern tsked at her over the phone. “You are playing a very dangerous game Miss Archeron. Of course it’s even more dangerous for our dear Elain.”

Feyre burst into Rhys’s room as he was also in the middle of a call. One look at Feyre’s distraught face though and Rhys immediately hung up mid-call.

“Who is it?” He mouthed to her.

“Hybern.” Feyre mouthed back. “Call Lucien. Now.”

Feyre turned to face the door so she could concentrate on Hybern’s next words as soon as she saw Rhys punching in the new number into his phone.

“I have become rather fond of your sweet sister. It’s why I ignored your earlier stunt. You must understand,that I am not a bad person Feyre.” Hybern said with force.

“You’ll forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”

To her surprise, Hybern laughed. “I can see why you ensnared both Tamlin and Rhysand, little huntress. But this ends now. If I don’t hear that your pathetic gala is cancelled by the end of the day, your little Flower will have disappeared.”

Hybern hung up before waiting for her response. With shaking hands, Feyre dropped the phone and turned to face Rhys.

He had his hand cupped over his phone so his words wouldn’t be heard by Hybern as well while Feyre was talking to him, but he now uncovered it so Feyre could hear him.

“-need to leave as soon as you can. We understand. Thank you.” Rhys hung up and took a step towards her. His eyes were calm but Feyre could see the worry and stress building up behind them.

“I told Lucien his time was up and to do whatever he needed to do to get Elain out within the next few hours. Is that okay?” Rhys asked uncertainly.

Feyre only nodded her head, exhaling deeply. She reached out a limp hand to the door for support as a sudden onslaught of dizziness came over her, but there was no need, as Rhys had already caught her and pulled her into his chest.

She closed her eyes as Rhys smoothed her hair soothingly with one hand, while the other was circled around the small of her back protectively.

“What did Hybern say?” He asked quietly.

“He wants us to cancel the Gala or he…” Feyre stumbled over her words as the danger Elain was in settled over her. “He’s going to-”

“It’s okay. Lucien’s had an escape route for them planned for days. He’ll get her out.” Rhys quietly interrupted so Feyre didn’t have to continue.

“How long?”

“He should have already left to get her. He’ll be here soon with Elain, I have no doubt about it.”

“How?” Feyre asked brokenly.

“Because he sounded so sure of himself for once Feyre. Lucien won’t fail you this time.” Rhys said kindly.


	23. Chapter 23

Rhysand had called everyone home and into the living room and explained to them what had happened so Feyre didn’t have to.

Mor currently sat beside her, one arm wrapped around Feyre’s blanketed shoulders, while Feyre sipped a hot chocolate Cassian had made for her.

Rhys was pacing by the front window which only served to unnerve Nesta who had been staring blankly at a wall for the past twenty minutes. On the surface she looked calm, but Feyre could see Nesta’s hands fidgeting and picking at her nails obsessively.

“How long until we go looking for Lucien?” Azriel asked.

“We don’t do anything until we know Lucien’s situation. We may only make things worse.” Rhys replied quickly.

“Surely there’s someth-” Mor began saying before she was interrupted by a rapid knock on the front door.

Everyone was on their feet instantly.

Feyre dropped her blanket and stumbled after Rhys into the hallway and to the front door. She could feel her pulse pounding in her neck with anticipation and fear of what would happen if it wasn’t Lucien.

Rhys had one hand on the door handle, about to open the door, when he looked back at Feyre to meet her eyes reassuringly, and giving her a small reassuring grin.

Feyre felt silly for worrying as she immediately spotted Lucien’s bright red hair from over Rhys’s shoulder.

But something was wrong. Rhys’s shoulders immediately tensed up and blocked any further view of the doorway that Feyre had.

Feyre huffed and placed a hand along the side of Rhys’s torso to wedge her way out between him and the hallway wall. When she saw Lucien her heart stopped. The look of disappointment and shame on his face was enough to tell her everything.

Elain was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is she?” Feyre demanded, dangerously calm.

“I’m sorry Feyre. I don’t know.” Lucien said, his head dropping at the last minute, unable to meet her eyes.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Nesta practically screeched from behind them.

Lucien flinched but made no attempt to answer her.

Feyre turned back to her sister in desperation, only to see Cassian visibly restraining Nesta from launching herself at Lucien.

“Well, go back out there and find her!” Mor said.

“I tried. Hybern must have been watching me. He knew.... Somehow.” Lucien loosed a shuddering breath before continuing. “She was supposed to still be at work in the office but when I got there she was gone and her desk was cleared. I raced home but all her things were gone from her room as well.”

Feyre felt the world starting to slip out from beneath her. How could Hybern always be one step ahead of them?

She felt Rhys’s hands reaching for her to pull her against him but she stepped away. She felt Rhys’s confusion but she couldn’t have him distracting her right now. She needed a clear head and action.

“No. There has to be something we can do. Elain can’t just be gone!”

“Can’t we call the police?” Nesta asked, finally calm enough for Cassian to release her.

“Not a chance. Hybern pays off too many of them.” Lucien said.

“I’m going to find her.” Feyre said, reaching for her jacket.

“No you’re not. You don’t even know where to look.” Rhys said, grabbing for her jacket at the same time Feyre did.

They both held the jacket between them, gazes locked, as Feyre’s anger battled for control over Rhys’s cool demeanour and reasoning.

No one said anything as they watched the two in fascination.

Finally, Feyre sighed and mumbled under her breath, “Well I can’t just do nothing.”

Rhys let the jacket drop to Feyre’s side. “I know. But we can’t rush into this. It could only make things worse. We know employees within Hybern’s industry, we can talk to them and see if they know anything. But we are not putting anyone else’s safety at stake.” He finished firmly.

Numbly, Feyre nodded and allowed Rhys to guide her back to the living room. The others followed, leaving Lucien standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Feyre glanced back. “Are you coming?” She called out to him.

Lucien seemed surprised to be remembered, but he slowly nodded and made his way into the living room. Rhys gestured for him to take a seat anywhere but Lucien instead leaned his back against a wall where he could see everyone easily, his face the picture of unease.

Rhys merely shrugged and turned to Azriel, about to ask a question when another knock surprised them all.

Rhys rose first and motioned for them all to stay where they were while he went to answer the door. Feyre remained seated for exactly one second before getting up and following Rhys.

She entered the hallway just in time to see Rhys nearly slam the door in someone’s face. He was stopped by a man’s strong forearm which had reached out to hold the door open.

“Wait!” The man pleaded and Feyre’s anger flooded back to her as she stared in shock.

“Tamlin?”

“Feyre! I need to talk to you, call off your guard dog.” Tamlin said through gritted teeth as he continued to hold the door open against Rhys.

“Feyre you don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to.” Rhys told her calmly, sounding like it was no struggle at all for him to keep most of the door shut against Tamlin.

“No, I want to know what it is he’s here for. What else can he do to me, he already took my sister.” Feyre said icily.

Tamlin stumbled but managed to keep the door open a sliver. “Like I was saying, if Feyre would just come out here and see-”

“She’s not going anywhere near you.” Cassian growled, suddenly appearing behind Feyre.

Feyre placed a placating hand against Cassian’s chest to hold him back. “It’s fine Cass. Go back inside and check on Nesta for me?”

Cassian looked like he would argue but with a roll of his shoulders he turned around and went back down the hallway.

“You’ve trained them all now.” Tamlin said in surprise. "Including Lucien if my sources are to be believed.“ Tamlin said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

"Tamlin, my patience is running out.” Feyre tapped her foot pointedly.

“And so is his arm strength I would say.” Rhys said smugly.

Enraged Tamlin let go of the door and Rhys had to pull back quickly to stop it from slamming shut, despite how much he might have liked to.

“I just came here to drop off something I thought you would want. I didn’t ask to be treated like this.” Tamlin grumbled.

Rhys bristled. “Do you think Feyre asked to be physically assaulted by you?”

But Feyre had stopped cold at Tamlin’s words. “Rhys, wait.” She said quietly.

“That got your attention.” Tamlin muttered, before turning away angrily and making his way down the front porch steps.

Feyre made to follow him and was quickly shadowed by Rhys. They followed Tamlin outside to his car where he made his way around to the passenger side door, opening it and allowing a small, bundled up person to get out.

Even beneath all the jumpers and scarves, Feyre recognised Elain. She tried to remain calm but her relief at seeing her safe and well was too much, and Feyre dropped all pretense of being calm as she sprinted for her sister.

Elain let out a surprised squeak as Feyre hurtled into her, bowling both of them over into one of the few remaining melted snow patches on the front lawn.

Elain giggled as Feyre held her. “Feyre! It’s so good to see you. It’s been months, my god where have you been?”

Feyre laughed, “long story.”

Elain seemed perfectly fine, happy even. Could it be possible she didn’t even realise the danger she was in?

Feyre was jolted from her line of thinking when a third weight collapsed on them and Feyre recognised Nesta’s lithe form holding tightly onto both Elain and Feyre.

“Nesta’s here too?” Elain asked innocently, but smiling brightly at their eldest sister.

Distantly, Feyre heard a car door shut and she looked up in time to see Tamlin pulling away from the house. They locked eyes through the windscreen as he left, and Tamlin offered her a small nod before he disappeared down the street.

“Well. That was unexpected.” Rhys said, from a few metres away.

Elain finally noticed him, eyes widening and giggling as she whispered to Nesta behind cupped hands, “who is that?”

Nesta rolled her eyes in annoyance before mock whispering back, loud enough for Rhys to hear, “Feyre’s boyfriend.”

Feyre playfully hit Nesta on the thigh which only served to make Elain giggle harder.

Rhys pretended he hadn’t heard anything as he reached down a hand to pull Feyre up. He then offered his hand to Elain who turned crimson red, but accepted his help. Rhys looked as if he meant to help Nesta up as well but one look at her face had him placing his hand back into his pocket as she got to her own feet.

“Elain?” Came Lucien’s disbelieving voice.

“Lucien?” Elain beamed up at him standing in the doorway. “Is there anyone else here that I should know about?” She joked.

Nesta trailed behind Elain cautiously as she went to greet Lucien by throwing her arms around his neck which seemed to surprise no one more than Lucien himself.

Feyre smiled watching them, before reaching for Rhys’s hand. He gladly gripped her hand back and moved closer so they were sharing the same body heat in the cold.

Feeling as if she could finally relax, Feyre tipped her head until it was leaning against Rhys’s shoulder, hoping that he wouldn’t realise she was standing on her tiptoes to reach it.

“What did Tamlin say?” She asked quietly. Aware that while she had been preoccupied with Elain, she had heard Rhys talking with Tamlin.

“Nothing too useful. Just about how much he was risking by bringing her here and how thankful we should be.”

Feyre snorted at how ridiculously childish Tamlin still was.

“But…” Rhys continued. “He did say that he had no part in Elain being brought so close to Hybern. The second your sister was brought into this he tried to find a way to stop it.”

“That doesn’t mean I should forgive all the things he’s done in the past.”

“Of course not. In fact I hope you never forgive that bastard, but it would be wrong of me if I didn’t tell you why he brought Elain back.”

Everyone had now gone back inside the house, presumably because it was so cold outside, and Feyre shivered in her wet clothes from the fall with Elain.

“Come on, let’s get you inside and warmed up.” Rhys said, rubbing some warmth back into her arms.

But Feyre had other plans as she turned to face Rhys, hands reaching up to bury themselves in his hair. He grinned crookedly at her as he brought his own hands down so they were skimming her side, from her ribs down to the widening of her hips.

Feyre thought she heard Mor calling for her within the house but her head was stopped from turning as Rhys cradled her jaw, thumb skimming over her cheekbone, as he brought his mouth down to hers.

She forgot anyone had been calling for her as she returned Rhys’s kiss. Hands locking behind his neck so she could pull herself up to reach him better. Rhys’s mouth had just opened beneath hers, a low moan beginning in the back of his throat, when a snowball hit them both squarely across the face.

“Found them!” Came Cassian’s voice from in front of the house.

Rhys glared at Cassian but Feyre laughed as she wiped the remaining snow from Rhys’s face. When he turned back to her his eyes were soft again, a memory dancing across his vision, as Feyre also remembered the first time they had met.

“We should go back to the others.” Feyre said quickly.

Rhys looked disappointed, but the joy in his eyes didn’t fade as he took Feyre’s hand and led them back inside, ignoring Cassian’s gagging noises.


	24. Chapter 24

That night Rhys and the others left Feyre and her sisters alone in Feyre’s room so they had time to reconnect. In the meantime, the others made last minute preparations for the Gala tomorrow night.

“So this is where you’ve been staying all these months?” Elain asked, in awe as she took in the sprawl of what Rhys had initially called his “modest” guest room.

Feyre shrugged, “It’s… a long story.”

Elain laughed. “You’ve said that. Well, looks like we have all night to talk so you may as well start with what happened with Tamlin.”

Elain was still beaming at Feyre, clearly unaware of how awful things had become between her and Tamlin. Sighing, Feyre sat down on the bed and motioned for both Elain and Nesta to sit as she tried her best to quickly explain the last few months.

A silent look had passed between Feyre and Nesta as Feyre paused right before explaining the threats Hybern had made against Elain. A slight shake of Nesta’s head told Feyre all she needed to know. Elain would remain unaware of just how much danger she had been in. Both sisters reassured Elain at this point that she was safe, but Hybern was not to be trusted, and if she ever saw him again she was to stay away.

Elain nodded solemnly at this, her face tight and pale, making Feyre wonder if her elder sister had already guessed that things were not as they seemed with Hybern.

“Feyre, why didn’t you tell us about Tamlin?” Was all Elain asked quietly.

Feyre was stunned, thinking Elain had been terrified of Hybern, not lingering on what Feyre had just told her about her terrible break up with Tamlin.

“I don’t know.” She said honestly. “You were both so far away, and I guess I thought I could handle it.”

Elain nodded sadly but let the issue drop, despite her eyes showing she had guessed at the truth. Feyre hadn’t fully known if she could trust her sisters to come and help her.

“At least you have your new friends!” Elain burst out happily, after quiet deliberation.

“I don’t know what I would have done without them.” Feyre replied honestly. 

Elain glanced impishly at Nesta before nudging Feyre playfully in the ribs, “I’m sure Rhysand especially has been a great friend to you.”

Feyre tried to shrug casually, but a furious red blush had already swept across her freckled cheeks making Elain giggle, and even Nesta cracked a small smile.

“Is this even your room? I hope we’re not keeping Rhys from his own bed.” Elain asked innocently, making Feyre swat her across the arm playfully.

“Yes, this is my room!” Feyre hissed.

“So I suppose this is your shirt then?” Nesta asked, holding up a clearly male, black t-shirt.

“Where did you get that?” Feyre blurted out, snatching it from Nesta’s hands.

“Under one of the pillows.” Nesta smiled at Elain, causing them both to collapse in a fit of giggles again.

“So. How serious are you two then? Have you… slept together?” Elain asked shyly at the last part.

Just when Feyre thought she couldn’t blush any harder. “He sleeps in here sometimes but, it’s not like that. There’s been so much going on I haven’t had much time to think about anything else.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry Feyre, these past few months must have been so hard on you.” Elain said, placing her hand over Feyre’s and giving it a squeeze.

“We’ll have to go shopping for a dress for you tomorrow.” Feyre said quickly, changing the subject.

“Elain’s coming to the Gala?” Nesta asked surprised.

“Well, I don’t see why not. Besides I don’t want to leave her here all alone.”

Elain squealed in delight. “How exciting! But I’ll need a date, seeing as you two already have dates.”

“No I don’t.” Said both Feyre and Nesta at the same time.

Elain looked between her sisters, clearly amused. “Of course Feyre will be going with Rhys. And Nes you’ll be going with that tall, dark man that I saw you with before, right?”

Nesta scoffed. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Elain turned to Feyre for help. “You know the one. He kept staring at Nesta and was hovering at her side the whole time we were downstairs.”

Feyre felt Nesta turn murderous eyes on her and her cheeks turned bright red as she dared Feyre to say his name. Cautiously, Feyre lied and asked, “Azriel?” to avoid Nesta’s wrath.

“The quiet one? No, the other one. He has longer hair, wears it in a bun.” Elain said, confused.

Feyre sighed, unable to put it off any longer. “Cassian?”

“WHAT?” Nesta cried out. “That overgrown brute of an ape? Why would I go with him?”

Elain was staring open mouthed at her eldest sister, not able to sense where the animosity was coming from. “I’m s-sorry Nesta, I may have misread the situation. But from what I just saw, he seems very… interested in you.”

Nesta laughed, a high pitched, almost staged laugh. “I wouldn’t go anywhere with him if he were the last male on earth.”

Just then a soft knock on the door had the three sisters on their feet. Feyre reacted quickest, reaching to open the door. When she pulled it open she was surprised to see Cassian, one hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he gave her a crooked grin.

“Hey, how you guys getting along up here?” He asked.

Feyre’s confusion must have shown on her face as she slowly answered, “Fine, I guess. Is there something you wanted Cas?" 

At that, Cassian’s face turned red. "Actually I was wondering if I could talk to Nesta quickly.”

Feyre quickly schooled her shocked face into a casual bored look as she motioned for Nesta. “It’s for you.”

Nesta got up silently and made her way into the hallway, back straight and head held high.

Immediately Feyre and Elain scrambled to the door to press their ears against it, struggling to make out what was being said.

“I can’t hear anything.” Elain whined.

“Neither.” Feyre said, just as the door started swinging inwards.

Feyre and Elain hit the bed as they reeled backwards.

“I knew you two were listening.” Nesta said, huffing as she sat down again.

“… Well. What did he want?” Elain asked sweetly.

Keeping her eyes averted from both of her sisters, Nesta said, “He said that Rhys wanted someone with us at all times at the Gala tomorrow night. That we needed a partner for safety reasons.”

“Then what?” Feyre asked nervously.

“That’s it. That was all he said. He just stared at me, expecting me to say something. So I told him that if that was the case, he could tell Azriel I’ll see him tomorrow night.”

Feyre groaned while Elain gaped at Nesta.

“Nesta! He was obviously trying to ask you if he could take you.” Elain said.

“Well, he should have asked me then, shouldn’t he?” Nesta said, standing again. “Now if you two don’t mind I’d like to go to sleep now.”

Feyre watched as Nesta started pulling blankets back so she could crawl into Feyre’s bed. Elain immediately got in the other side and squished in so there was still room for Feyre to slide in.

“Do you want me to use your room Nesta?” Feyre asked softly.

“Of course not. That’s why we left room for you.” Elain answered for Nesta.

Smiling, Feyre climbed in next to Elain, resting her forehead against her shoulder. She felt her eyes begin to water as Elain reached a tiny hand back to grip hers, and Feyre realised just how much she had missed her sisters. Even if she had told herself she was fine without them.

Feyre had just been about to fall asleep, her body already numb and warm from her sister’s body heat when she was jolted awake by a gentle knock on the door a few hours later.

Feyre glanced at her sleeping sisters once, before slipping out from beneath the covers and padding over to the door on bare feet.

“Rhys?” She asked blearily, opening the door.

Rhys beamed at her sleepy face as Feyre’s eyes tried to adjust to the light difference.

“Just wanted to check in and see how Elain was doing.”

“She’s fine. I think we’re all sleeping in here tonight though.” Feyre said, almost apologetically.

Rhys chuckled softly. “I guessed as much. And how are you doing?” He asked, his unnatural violet eyes softening as he glanced up and down her body, lingering on the black shirt Nesta had found and she had chosen to sleep in. “Is that my shirt?” He asked bemused.

Feyre tugged at the hem self consciously. “No.” She said poking her tongue out at him.

Rhys laughed before tugging her towards him. His arms enveloped her and Feyre closed her eyes against his chest, breathing his scent in.

“I’m glad you’ve got both your sisters back.” Rhys said, after a few minutes.

“Thank you for letting us all stay here.” Feyre mumbled against his shirt.

“Of course.” Rhys said stroking her hair. “I’ll let you go get some sleep now, we have a big day tomorrow. I just wanted to say goodnight.” But when Rhys began to untangle himself from her, Feyre clung on, tilting her face up to his and claiming his lips with her own.

It didn’t take much encouragement for Rhys to return her kiss, although he at first seemed reluctant. His fingers lightly skimmed Feyre’s thighs, just beginning to reach under the hem of his shirt that she was wearing, when Feyre gasped against his mouth. That gasp nearly broke all of Rhys’s control as he backed Feyre gently into the closed door behind her.

With Rhys’s body hard against hers holding her against the wall, Feyre made a quick decision. She roughly pushed a hand against his chest to force some space between them. Rhys backed off immediately, staring at her with curious eyes and his head cocked slightly to one side.

Slowly, Feyre reached down for Rhys’s hands. She grasped both firmly, trying to convey the meaning she couldn’t say aloud as she moved towards Rhys’s room, dragging him gently behind her. But Feyre didn’t need to say anything as Rhys read the hunger in her eyes that matched his own, as if he were reading her mind. 

As Feyre reached the threshold of his room, Rhys slowed them down. A question in his eyes as he held Feyre’s gaze. Feyre nodded her head, smiling at him wickedly before pulling them both into his room, making sure the door was locked behind them.


	25. Chapter 25

Feyre awoke later the next morning, tucked soundly into Rhys’s bare chest. One of his arms was banded tightly around her chest, the other was circling her waist loosely. Feyre could feel the slow, even rise and fall of his chest every time he breathed in and knew Rhys was still asleep.

Very slowly, Feyre rolled so she could face Rhys while he slept. But the sudden movement made Rhys’s arms tighten around her and his breath hitch, so that by the time Feyre turned around, she found Rhys’s eyes already open and staring at her sleepily.

She offered him a small smile before tucking her head into the crook of his neck, nuzzling him with her nose.

After a few minutes Rhys sighed before saying, “this could be the greatest mistake of my life, but do you think we should get up and get dressed?”

Feyre groaned in reply and curled further into Rhys’s body heat, making Rhys chuckle.

“Come on. Don’t make me rip the blankets away from you.” Rhys whispered dangerously in her ear.

“You wouldn’t.” Feyre warned.

“Oh I would. There’s definitely too many layers covering you right now.”

Feyre playfully flicked him on the nose, but began disentangling herself. She tried to remain covered by the blanket as she searched for her clothing but then thought why should she care if Rhys saw her naked now? Shrugging off the covers, Feyre stood before Rhys and began stretching as if he wasn’t even there.

Rhys growled low in the back of his throat. His eyes shamelessly wandering over her body hungrily.

“Feyre darling, any other time and I wouldn’t have even let you out of this bed so easily, but as we are on a very strict time schedule… I think I’ll have to go and have a shower.”

“Want me to join you?” Feyre teased.

Rhys smirked at her. “I think that would defeat the purpose. But next time, you are more than welcome to join me.” He said, while kissing her quickly on the lips.

While Rhys disappeared into the bathroom, Feyre set about finding some clothes and trying to arrange her hair in a way that wouldn’t be so evident as to what they had been doing last night.

When Rhys reemerged, Feyre looked much more presentable, much to Rhys’s delight.

When the two made it to the kitchen, they saw Cassian in an apron that depicted a very obvious female body in a bikini, and cooking everyone breakfast. The sight would have surprised Feyre, if she hadn’t soon realised that Cassian did the majority of the cooking for his friends because he was, and she hated to admit this, surprisingly good at it.

Nesta and Elain were already sitting at the kitchen counter. The first ignoring Cassian altogether, the latter chatting rapturously to him about what herbs he used in his cooking.

“Well I’m glad someone finally understands the art of cooking.” Cassian said, while mock glaring at Rhys.

Rhys smiled at Elain while Cassian returned to his cooking.

“And where did you disappear to last night?” Nesta said, eyes on Feyre.

Feyre sat opposite her eldest sister at the counter and raised her eyebrows in a challenge.

“I was under the impression Feyre slept in her room with you two last night?” Mor asked, looking up from her laptop suddenly interested.

“She was. Until Rhys knocked on the door early this morning and Feyre didn’t come back.” Elain said mischievously.

Rhys locked eyes with Feyre from where he was sitting next to her, the two saying nothing, but twin smiles dancing on their faces.

“I KNEW IT!” Cassian yelled, while holding a frying pan of bacon.

“Cassian please, it was only a matter of time.” Amren drawled from her position on the window seat.

“Don’t you ruin this for me Amren.” Cassian replied sternly, while messing up Rhys’s hair affectionately.

“We should really get back to preparation for tonight.” Azriel said, flashing Feyre an apologetic smile.

“Thanks.” Feyre mouthed back to him.

“What’s there to talk about? I’ve already arranged everything, we just need to set up and get dressed.” Mor said confidently.

“My god woman, do you ever sleep?” Cassian joked.

Mor poked her tongue out at him. “Some of us have better things to do than ogle ourselves in mirrors.”

Feyre couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her.

“If I were you I’d be more careful about insulting the person cooking your food.” Cassian warned, brandishing his spatula.

“I think I’ll skip breakfast then and get a head start on setting up the hall for tonight.” Amren said, excusing herself from the room.

The others talked and joked more while Cassian started dishing up breakfast, arranging Rhys’s eggs and sausage into a somewhat cruder picture than anyone else’s. When he got to Nesta’s plate though, he skipped it altogether.

“Excuse me?” Nesta asked icily.

Everyone drew further back from the counter, preparing to run.

“You didn’t ask for any breakfast. How was I supposed to know you wanted some if you didn’t ask?” Cassian sneered at her.

“Oh, stop being so immature.” Nesta shot back.

“Why don’t you just ask Azriel to make you some breakfast?”

Azriel looked like he wanted to just about fade away into the shadows rather than be anywhere near this conversation.

Shooting to her feet, Nesta stormed from the room.

“Cas-” Rhys began before a raised hand from Cassian stopped him.

“I’ll go bring her some food in a minute don’t worry. But she can cool off first.”

Elain hesitatingly got to her feet. “I’ll go talk to her.” She said, before rushing from the room, bumping into Lucien as he entered the room. Lucien grabbed her arms, steadying her before she could fall. Elain smiled sheepishly at him before darting down the hallway.

“Well, that went well.” Mor said chirpily.

“Is there a reason Nesta nearly threw me down the stairs just then?” Lucien said, sitting in Nesta’s recently vacated seat.

“Oh don’t worry, that’s just how she says good morning.” Cassian muttered darkly.

Feyre had been with Mor all morning, setting up the giant ballroom that a friend of Rhys' owned and agreed to let them use for the night in the name of charity.

“Rhys can be a real sweet talker when he wants to huh?” Mor winked at her, when Feyre couldn’t stop marvelling at the size of beauty of it.

Feyre had wound fairy lights around windows, and banisters all day until her back ached from trying to reach high places. Occasionally becoming sidetracked by the beautiful carvings in the stonework of walls and columns.

Caterers came and went, setting up a banquet area and preparing food and drinks. Electricians adjusted lighting and even carried in a giant crystal chandelier to suspend over the middle of the dance floor.

“How did you manage to arrange all this so quickly?” Feyre asked Mor in awe.

“I have my ways.” Mor laughed. Somewhere in the building, a clock struck making Mor clap her hands together in surprise. “My god, look at the time! We have to start getting ready!” She cried, while dragging Feyre into a hallway and shoving her inside a spare room.

“We’re getting ready here?” Feyre asked puzzled.

“Of course. I couldn’t leave this place for even a moment with all the deliveries I’m expecting and people to boss around. Don’t worry I’ve already arranged for all our things to be here.” Mor said, indicating a few boxes placed on a dusty looking bed.

Mor wasted no time, tearing open boxes to find her dress, shoes and makeup. Feyre approached her own pile, reaching into one to find her dress.

“Umm, Mor. This isn’t my dress?” Feyre asked puzzled. 

A few days ago, Mor had taken Feyre shopping in Velaris where Feyre had bought with her coffee shop wages a floor length black dress. It had been modestly cut but had a thigh high slit reaching up one leg to show off some skin. The dress had been nice and Mor had highly approved of it, but it was not the dress that Feyre was now looking at.

Inside the box was a light blue dress. It had hundreds - no, thousands of small sparkling gems set into it, and Feyre couldn’t help but gasp as she shifted the material under the light making bright bursts of light dance off it like the stars themselves.

“That is certainly not your dress. It’s better!” Mor squealed from over her shoulder.

“There must be some mistake.” Feyre said, pulling the dress out fully from the box. As she did, a small folded up note fell out.

Mor snatched up the note and quickly skimming it before smiling softly as she handed it to Feyre. The note read ‘Feyre, I know you already had a dress in mind, but I saw this and thought of you. -Rhys.’

“That bastard never tells me where he finds his clothes.” Mor grumbled. “Well, try it on!”

With Mor’s help Feyre was able to do the dress up and put on the matching shoes. The dress was long sleeved, the neckline ending just below her collarbones, almost making her look matronly. If it weren’t for how tight it was on her bust and waist which the sparkling gems did more to accentuate. “Not to mention how great it makes your butt look.” Mor added, when Feyre voiced this to her.

Mor arranged Feyre’s hair into a neat, half up, half down look with loose curls and applied a light amount of makeup. “This way we can still see your freckles.” She said, before lining Feyre’s eyes and applying the lightest amount of blush. Mor stepped back to survey her handiwork.

“Oh, you are going to just make Rhys drool all over you tonight. If you need any favours from him, ask him tonight, I’m sure he’d do anything for you.” She laughed.

Feyre laughed and thanked her. “You look pretty great yourself.” And it was true. Mor was wearing a bright red dress with matching lipstick. Her neckline dipping nearly all the way to her navel, before flaring out slightly at her hips. Her makeup was dark and smoky, and her hair was pulled back plainly into a high ponytail, leaving all the attention on her face and body.

“Azriel won’t be able to take his eyes off you.” Feyre added slyly. But when Mor didn’t smile back, Feyre grew worried. “Mor, is everything okay?”

Mor looked conflicted but ultimately decided to confide in Feyre as she lowered her voice. “Az and I... aren’t like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I love Az. Just as much as I love Rhys and all our friends. But that’s just it, like a friend.”

“I don’t understand.” Feyre asked puzzled. She had seen how close Mor and Azriel were, and just assumed they were secretly together, or at least had feelings for each other.

“Feyre can I tell you something that cannot leave this room?” Mor asked gravely.

“Of course.”

“I don’t… like men in that way.”

Feyre paused as she took in this information, replying very sophisticatedly with, “Oh.”

“I’m not ashamed of it. I’ve been with both men and women but I only fall in love with females. But you have to understand that my family… they’re very cruel people and while I don’t care about what they think of me anymore, I worry about what they would still be able to do to Rhys, or a future partner.”

“I understand. Does Rhys know?”

Mor shook her head sadly. “I want to tell him, I know he wouldn’t think any less of me for it. I just don’t know how.”

“And Azriel?”

“He’s guessed.”

“But Mor, I think he still loves you.” Feyre said cautiously.

“Sometimes even when we’re told someone can never love us, that won’t erase our feelings. I can help Az move on, but only when he wants to.”

Feyre nodded in understanding. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

Mor without warning hugged Feyre to her tightly. “Thank you for listening Feyre. Both you and Rhys are so lucky to have one another.” She finished sadly.


	26. Chapter 26

Feyre heard from her small room when the hired band started playing and the soft murmurings of people as they walked down the hallway to the ballroom.

She was anxiously clenching and unclenching her fists as she waited for Mor to return. There had been an issue with a seafood dish that Mor had deemed a catastrophe and had gone to investigate, leaving Feyre to wait alone. She kept checking her phone by the minute, hoping to see a text that Mor was on her way back. Feyre really didn’t want to have to enter the gala on her own.

Half an hour had passed and Feyre could now hear the party in full swing just a few rooms away. The sounds of people laughing and the tinkling of glasses as people drank.

Where was Mor?

Just as Feyre was about to call her, her phone lit up with a text from Rhys. ‘Everything okay?’ He asked.

'Mor told me to wait for her.’ Feyre responded, not wanting to admit that she just didn’t want to go alone.

A few minutes passed before Rhys sent her another text. 'Mor’s here with us. She said to just come out now because she’ll still be a while.’

Taking a deep breath Feyre looked herself over in the mirror one last time. She glared at herself, willing her shoulders not to cave in slightly, for her neck to stand tall, and her face to be held high. She would not let fear, or her past, dictate how people would treat her tonight.

'Okay. Coming now.’ Feyre quickly texted Rhys, before stepping into the hallway.

Cassian had been slumped at a table, his hand under his jaw as he watched with amusement as Nesta and Azriel awkwardly stood near the buffet table together. Nesta was glaring at anyone who looked her way, as Azriel held a small plate of food he was picking at, but not eating, in an effort to keep himself occupied.

Cassian snorted in amusement at how miserable Azriel looked, despite him easily being one of the friendliest and most approachable one of their friends. Nesta had that effect on people. For people that weren’t Cassian that is.

Putting on his best mischievous grin, Cassian thought he should go and relieve his brother from his obvious discomfort.

“Az, Rhys wants to see you.” Cassian said, sauntering over.

Azriel looked visibly relieved, disappearing so fast he nearly forgot his unwavering manners, quickly nodding to Nesta as he left.

“What do you want?” Nesta asked icily.

“I’m actually just here for the food.” Cassian said dismissing her entirely, as he grabbed a plate and started piling up food. “Nice dress.” He added, eyeing up her dark blue gown.

Nesta absentmindedly plucked at the fabric. “Feyre picked it out for me.”

“It suits you.”

Nesta glanced at him suspiciously. “You’re being oddly nice?”

“I’m often nice, to people who are nice to me that is.”

Nesta snorted. “Your friends would say otherwise.”

“They only say it with love.” Cassian paused, “What do your friends say about you Nesta?”

Nesta’s face turned bright red. “I’m done talking to you.” She said, turning to leave.

But Cassian gripped her wrist tightly to stop her, but not enough to hurt. “I know that Amren thinks you’re incredibly smart. Mor admires your ferocity. Azriel thinks when you’re not frowning you have quiet a lovely smile. And Rhys respects you. These are your friends Nesta. They care about you, why do you push them away?”

Nesta stared back defiantly at Cassian. Ignoring his question entirely as she stared him down, “And what do you think of me?”

Cassian opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly closed it. He turned his face away, letting go of her wrist. “… Enjoy the gala.” He muttered before turning his back.

Elain had been sitting at a table with Amren, who only slightly terrified her, and Rhysand, who Elain couldn’t stop herself from staring at. He was in a black suit with gold trim, the details so fine and exquisite Elain had to refrain from asking where he bought it.

Rhys would look quite formidable, Elain thought, seeing how his suit slightly tightened over his biceps and chest, but his soft gaze and smile, and the care in which he spoke to her, meant that Elain could only see him as a good male. He looked tense tonight however. His gaze constantly roving the hall, searching for someone. Feyre. Elain immediately thought. She hadn’t seen her youngest sister all night.

People were in constant revolvement of their table with many richly dressed men and women approaching Rhys to shake hands and talk quietly with him. Rhys happily introduced Elain to them who gushed over Elain’s dress and hair, which she had entwined various flowers into. But Elain could tell Rhys was distracted.

“Should I go and check on her?” Elain asked.

“Feyre’s fine, she’ll be here soon.” Amren interrupted coolly.

Rhys looked down once more at his phone in response. “She should be here by now.” He said quietly.

But Elain was interrupted from answering by the shadow of a man standing over here. When she looked up she smiled sweetly into the face of Lucien.

“Lucien! You look great, you even brushed your hair.” She joked.

Lucien self consciously smoothed down his long, tied back hair.

“I still think you should have let Elain braid it.” Amren muttered.

Lucien’s face turned pink in embarrassment.

Just then, the band picked up a fast beat that Elain recognised. She jumped to her feet, startling Lucien. “Come dance with me!” She squealed excitedly, pulling Lucien along by the hand.

Lucien looked back at Rhys for help, but Rhys only laughed and shrugged, urging him to follow Elain.

“Those two are… odd.” Amren drawled from her chair, watching the two with feigned disinterest.

“Feyre thinks so too. I don’t know what to do about it though.” Rhys replied.

“Don’t do anything. Let it run its course and see if it works out.” Amren shrugged.

When Rhys again checked his phone Amren sighed in disgust. “Oh stop your worrying, there she is.”

Rhys looked up to the balcony in time to see the great double doors opening and a small figure he would recognise anywhere, slip through. She tried to remain unspotted but as she approached the staircase to descend, the lighting hit her and audible gasps rose from the room.

From a dark corner Cassian had been watching Nesta as she slowly moved around the room. She must have been searching for Feyre or Elain, just for someone to talk to. Anyone but him evidently.

Well, Cassian was done trying to talk and be nice to her. For tonight at least. The gala was full of plenty of interesting people that he would occupy himself with instead.

Just as Cassian got up to find an old friend, he noticed Nesta’s head whipping to the doors as they opened. Her mouth dropped open in surprise as she took in whoever had just walked in.

Cassian followed her line of vision and saw Feyre enter shyly, wearing a dress that Cassian knew only Rhys could have found for her. He found himself smiling at the sight.

Elain was leading Lucien around the dance floor, trying to loosen him up from his stiff and proper demeanour. His hand was holding hers loosely and his other hand was resting high on her back in-between her shoulder blades.

“Come on Lucien! Stop watching your feet and dance with me properly.” She taunted him.

Lucien slowly raised his eyes to hers, his cheeks turning pink again as she smiled encouragingly at him. His mouth opened to say something to her but Elain stopped moving, looking at something over his shoulder.

Lucien’s heart sank. His request to take a walk with her outside in the garden forgotten on his lips as Elain dropped his hand.

Lucien turned to see what she was staring at and was shocked to see Feyre entering the ballroom, looking more beautiful and happy than he had ever seen her with Tamlin, even if her smile was slightly tinged with fear as she beheld the packed room of people.

Rhys lost his breath as he saw Feyre practically glowing in her dress, light bouncing off her and shimmering as she took a hesitant step down. He noted the healthy blush in her cheeks, the glow in her eyes. Even the weight she'd managed to put on after she'd come to him from Tamlin.

People cupped their hands to their mouths as they began whispering. Rhys heard words ricocheting around the hall, at first convinced they were all just as stunned as himself. Until he caught words like “gold digger”, and “Tamlin”.

Feyre must have heard them as well as her foot halted on the second step, hovering in place with a look of fear on her lovely face. Her eyes darted around the room quickly and the hand holding up the train of her dress trembled slightly.

Rhys stood slowly from the table. He began politely sidling past people, resisting the urge to push people out of the way in his need to get to Feyre. To show her he was there. That she could do this. That what the others thought didn’t matter.

Eventually people saw him coming and started to part for him, making his process much quicker. As a ripple effect took part in the crowd, Feyre looked up, searching for the source of the disturbance. When she finally found Rhys, their eyes met for just a second, Rhys accidentally stepping on someone’s toe as he forgot to look where he was going.

Feyre’s foot connected with the second step.

When Rhys reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked up at her and to Feyre’s obvious surprise, he bowed at the waist, glancing up quickly to wink and offer her a challenging smile.

Somewhere from within the crowd Cassian wolf whistled, and Feyre had to stifle a laugh, moving down to the third step.

Seeing that Feyre was moving, Rhys straightened. He was close enough now to properly see Feyre, as if from a distance he had only been looking at her through a frosted window. Now he could take in all of her beauty at once. His eyes raked up and down her body once, twice. Stopping to look at her face, her hair, not missing a single bit of detail.

Feyre blushed furiously under his stare. And suddenly, it was if no one else in the room was there at all. She reached the bottom of the stairs, stopping before Rhys, who offered her his arm immediately.

Feyre slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and allowed Rhys to escort her through the crowd, staring down those who looked at them too critically, and warmly smiling at those who also smiled at them.

He pulled her onto the dance floor as a new song was beginning by the band.

“I thought we both knew that I can’t dance.” Feyre joked in his ear, remembering their drunken night out.

“Luckily, I am a good enough dancer for both of us.” Rhys laughed back. “You look lovely by the way.” He added, running another appreciative glance over her.

“Thanks for the dress.”

“It was nothing. Although I doubt Mor will ever forgive me.”

“She was not impressed that you hid it from her.” Feyre laughed.

“She doesn’t look too mad right now.” Rhys said, indicating with his head a column that Mor was watching them from, her hands clasped together tightly as she smiled softly at them.

“Is that Elain dancing with Lucien?” Feyre asked in shock, noticing the two nearby.

“She dragged him off right before you arrived.”

“Lucien looks so stiff he could be a statue.” Feyre giggled staring at his rigid form.

“I don’t think Lucien is used to dancing with pretty girls.” Rhys smiled down at her.

“Unlike you?” Feyre asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I thought I was used to it. Until tonight and I realised I’d never had the chance to dance with you.”

Feyre took a step closer to Rhys as his hand on her back simultaneously pulled her towards him.

“How has Nesta been tonight?” Feyre almost hated to ask, stopping Rhys from where he was beginning to lower his face to hers.

Rhys growled roughly in the back of his throat. “I’d much rather talk about you right now.” He said, leaning in again.

But Feyre’s hand gripped his tightly, to the point of nearly breaking the skin on his palm. “Everyone’s staring Rhys.”

Rhys took in her tense face. The way her eyes were constantly flitting to the watching crowd around them.

Rhys stopped moving, cupping her face with both of his hands. “I love you Feyre. And I don’t give a damn what these people think. If I get a chance to show people how much I love you, I’ll do it every time. If you think-”

Feyre cut Rhys off smoothly by raising herself on her toes to kiss him roughly. Ignoring the murmurs around them, she threw her arms around his neck as Rhys practically lifted her off her feet in his eagerness to return her kiss.

When Rhys bunched his hands in her hair, Feyre broke off the kiss smiling at him. “Mor spent at least on hour doing my hair, you’d better not wreck it.” She laughed.

“I promise not to ruin your hair darling.” Rhys whispered to her, leaning in once more.

“They’re disgusting aren’t they?” Amren said to Cassian, who had joined her at her lone table.

Cassian looked again at Rhys and Feyre kissing in the middle of the room. “You’re happy for them. Your foot’s tapping, and you only do that when you’re happy.” Cassian pointed out.

“Only because they were both so stubborn I thought it’d never happen. Just like a certain other couple I know.” She said dangerously.

“Amren you’ll have to be a little more specific.” Cassian rolled his eyes.

“I saw you talking to Nesta earlier.” Amren said with glittering eyes.

“Yeah and look how well that worked out. Nesta wants nothing to do with us.”

“You mean you?”

“Yeah, me especially.” Cassian sighed.

“Looks like your luck’s about to change.” Amren mused to herself.

Cassian looked up to ask what she meant when he saw Nesta bee lining for them. She stopped shy of their table, a foul mood practically rolling off her.

Cassian ignored her, not wanting to get into yet another fight. So nothing surprised him more than when Nesta spoke to him a single word, “Sorry.”

“What?” Cassian sputtered.

“I said I’m sorry. I was unnecessarily cruel tonight.” Nesta said, looking obviously uncomfortable.

“Just tonight?” Cassian asked with a grin.

“Don’t push it.”

“I’ll only accept your apology on one condition.” Cassian said wickedly.

Nesta eyed him up uneasily. “What condition?”

“You dance with me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on Nes. We can’t let Elain and Lucien of all people show us up.” He said, getting to his feet.

“Don’t call me tha-” Nesta was cut off as Cassian pulled her by the arm to dance, Amren shaking her head in amusement at them.

Throughout the night Feyre drank and happily danced with Rhys, as well as Cassian when he asked to switch partners. Rhys had looked at her in fear as Cassian twirled Nesta towards him, while simultaneously reaching for Feyre.

Feyre had laughed with Cassian as Rhys attempted to dance with Nesta who was obviously uncomfortable.

At one point, Feyre noticed Mor talking to a pretty girl at the back of the room, the two laughing together.

Whenever Rhys let Feyre sit down to rest her already sore feet, they were constantly hounded by friends of Rhys who wished to be introduced. Out of all the people she met, one of her favourites was a tall, dark man who introduced himself as Tarquin when Rhys was busy talking to others.

He had kissed her hand formally and told her how stunning she looked, all within earshot of Rhys who appraised Tarquin with surprise. Feyre later learned that Rhys hadn’t known the man that well but he was known to them and Rhys had been trying to schedule a meeting with him for months. He was both surprised and annoyed that he seemed to have taken such an interest in Feyre.

Later on, Feyre was introduced to two old friends of Rhys', Helion and Kallias. Kallias was friendly but was distracted from their conversation as he was always searching the crowd for the beautiful woman he had arrived with.

“I see why you’ve kept her hidden from us for so long Rhys, she is exquisite.” Helion said, after he had introduced himself to Feyre.

“Can you blame me, when everyone knows what a shameless flirt you are Helion.” Rhys said, warmly shaking his friend’s hand.

“Is this who you learnt it from?” Feyre asked Rhys, bumping his hip slightly.

Helion laughed while promising he would come visit for dinner more as he was intrigued by Feyre.

It wasn’t long before Feyre had relaxed and began to really enjoy herself.

Towards the end of the night, Rhys took to the band stage to thank everyone for attending, as well as donating throughout the night. So much money had been raised that he now thought they stood a chance of being able to buy the land back from Hybern, allowing them all to keep their properties.

This news was met with cheers and loud clapping as Rhys lowered his head in thanks, before leaving the stage.

Rhys rejoined the small circle of his friends smiling at them all happily.

Feyre saw from the corner of her eye the front door opening and a man enter. She didn’t recognise him, but he had the dark hair and tanned skin of an Illyrian as he scanned the room, stopping when he saw Rhys.

He pushed people aside roughly until he had reached them, pulling Rhys aside to speak quietly with him. Feyre’s heart stopped as she saw Rhys start shaking his head in disbelief, hands covering his face in what looked like grief.

Feyre was at his side in an instant. Their friends watching on anxiously. She reached out to grip his shoulder to get him to look at her. “What is it?”

When Rhys looked up his face was so angry, so on the brink of exploding with rage, that Feyre took an involuntary step back. At that Rhys’s eyes widened as he read what Feyre was seeing, or rather comparing him with, and he immediately schooled his features into something much calmer.

Looking at his friends he steeled himself to tell them the news he had just received. “We’re too late. Hybern has already blocked off the neighbourhood and has a team of bulldozers set up."


	27. Chapter 27

Cassian drove like a maniac to get them home before anything awful happened.

“For cauldron’s sake, slow down!” Amren cried from the back of the huge truck, putting up an arm against the window to brace herself.

“Learn how to hold on.” Cassian called back.

“Learn how to drive.” Amren countered.

Cassian sighed but the car slowed down marginally. That didn’t mean they went any slower going around corners though. At one point Rhys threw an arm over Feyre as Cassian took a tight turn, rubber tyres screeching on the wet asphalt.

Despite Cassian’s undoubted speeding, Feyre felt as if was still the longest drive of her life.

Upon noticing her tense body position, Rhys wordlessly brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it sweetly, offering her a reassuring smile.

“We’ll figure this out.” He whispered to her.

Feyre nodded and tried to smile back at him, but his eyes never lost that spark of worry as he looked ahead to where he knew his home might already be reduced to rubble and debris.

With no warning, Cassian slammed on the brakes, sending all them flying forwards before their seat-belts hauled them back into their seats.

“Watch it Cassian!” Mor yelled at him from the front seat next to him.

Cassian just shook his head and pointed ahead. Feyre craned her neck to see past the headrest obstructing her view.

Up ahead orange lights flashed and a barrier had been erected across the road, instructing them that only approved personnel could enter.

“To hell with that.” Azriel said with a snarl, leaping from the car, the others immediately following.

“What does it mean?” Feyre whispered to Rhys.

“They’ve blocked off the neighbourhood, probably rounding up people now and removing them.” Rhys said back softly, disbelief tingeing his voice.

“We can still stop this.” Feyre said back, gripping his hand tightly.

Nearby people shuffled past them, arms full of mismatched belongings, lost looks on their faces. Mor rushed over to them.

“What happened?”

“Oh thank god you’re all back.” Cried a mother, leading two olive skinned, dark haired children behind her.

“Police showed up at our door, told us we had five minutes to remove ourselves and anything we could carry as the land and house now belonged to them?” A disgruntled older man said from behind the small family.

“How can they just kick them out?” Cassian looked to Rhys.

Rhys only shook his head, dazed.

“You will help us won’t you?” The mother asked, turning pleading eyes to Rhys and Feyre.

“We'll look into this. Don’t wander too far.” Rhys promised the woman, looking into the faces of both children and giving them reassuring smiles.

Then, hand still in Feyre’s, he stormed off towards the barrier as more families emerged from the darkness.

Feyre watched in growing horror as Illyrians began flooding towards the barrier in huge droves carrying blankets, suitcases, photos, all looking beyond panicked and in shock.

Azriel and Cassian hurried to catch up to Rhys and Feyre, taking the lead as Feyre stopped to remove her high heels so she could move faster. Something like embarrassment colouring her cheeks as she fussed with the no doubt expensive shoes as people all around her were being herded from their homes.

Just as Feyre resumed walking beside Rhys, a high wail pierced the air around them. Rhys broke into a sprint at the sound of the voice.

Feyre tried to keep up but in the end arrived with the much slower Nesta and Elain, moments after the rest of the group, just in time to see a massive wrecking ball hit the side of a small white home, the wall instantly collapsing in a shriek of wood splintering and glass shattering.

At first Feyre thought the sound had come from the house itself as it was destroyed. Until she saw the Illyrian woman struggling in the arms of two large police officers.

“That's my house!” She cried.

There was no pity, no shred of empathy on either of the officer’s faces as they mutely held the woman between them, who looked ready to shred the skin from their faces if only they would let her.

Rhys was already approaching them, flanked by Cassian and Azriel. “What is the meaning of this?” He demanded, in a quiet, murderous tone.

“Just following orders to evacuate the vicinity by the new landowner.” One shrugged.

“I would have a word with this new owner.” Rhys continued in that cold tone.

The officer grunted, inclining his head down the street in the direction of Rhys’s own house.

“I would also ask you to let go of the lady.” He said darkly.

The woman glanced up limply with tears in her eyes as she realised who had arrived.

“She’s a danger to herself and the demolition workers.” The other officer replied. “She can keep us company.” He added slyly with a smirk.

The woman blanched and redoubled her efforts to free her arms.

“We can take care of her from here.” Azriel interrupted coolly, stepping towards the men at the same time as Cassian did.

So quick the officers didn’t see it coming, Cassian and Azriel slipped the woman out from them and quickly pushed her behind them. “Thank you for all your help.” Cassian flashed a wolfish grin at them.

Looking like they had just lost a new toy the officers retreated, noticing the promise of violence in both male’s gaze.

Azriel walked the woman forward gently and the rest of their group followed, the woman looking back forlornly at the dust rising from the wreck of her house.

Feyre made it all of two steps before she felt a rough arm gripping her. “You don’t look like you’re from around here, allow me to help you get back to where you belong.” The larger of the two officers said hotly into her ear.

Feyre slapped him away but his grip only tightened causing her to cry out in pain.

“She belongs with me.” Rhys practically growled, who had turned immediately at the sound of her struggle.

The officer laughed mockingly. “Keep moving half breed, pedigrees like this don’t sleep in kennels with the likes of you.”

Feyre’s face burned with anger as she turned to spit in the officer’s face, stepping on the insole of his foot with as much force as she could muster. The man howled, instantly releasing her.

Rhys immediately encircled her with one arm protectively as he looked her over to make sure she wasn’t hurt, before hurrying her along quickly, away from the cursing officer.

“I guess all dogs howl the same, no matter the inbreeding.” Feyre called back to the man viciously, as he hopped on one foot, in too much pain to notice her retreat.

Rhys’s arm grew tighter around Feyre’s middle as he oversaw the destruction of his neighbourhood. The sounds of crumbling buildings and screaming people as their homes fell, made Feyre feel as if she were on a battlefield, not a suburban street.

Most families had already been evacuated this far in but some had put up a fight, needing to be physically dragged by policemen, construction workers, or even by the black suited men known as Hybern’s personal bodyguards.

“We need to hurry.” Mor said, quiet devastation on her face.

The group moved on, pace quickening as they finally reached their own street, many of the houses mercifully untouched.

Feyre felt a sliver of hope. Until she realised a crowd was gathered ahead. Right in front of Rhys’s house.

“Hybern.” Rhys growled.

As they approached, Feyre was able to make out the shape of several gargantuan bulldozers and other demolition vehicles, all trained on the massive townhouse before them.

Plenty of people milled about in suits, clipboards in hand as they ticked items off that were being carried from the home by hard hat workers in bright vests.

“That is my house.” Rhys snarled, eerily echoing the Illyrian woman earlier, who was now hiding behind Azriel.

The tallest man by far turned to them slowly, tauntingly. “Ah Rhysand, so good to see you again. I was so hoping you’d be present for this.” Hybern sneered. “And I see you’ve brought all your friends to watch as well.” He said, gazing at them all, but his eyes landing on and staying on Feyre, which did not go unnoticed by Rhys.

“We still had time you bastard, none of this is legal.” Rhys threatened.

Hybern only smiled wider. “Oh, I think you’ll find all of this is very legal.”

“Liar.” Mor hissed.

“I held a court meeting today, the objective to push forward my construction dates. Anyone who opposed my proposition was encouraged to turn up at 6pm and object.” Hybern said finally tearing his eyes to glance smugly at Mor.

Mor’s eyes widened, “The same time the gala started.” She breathed.

“It is hardly my fault you distracted the entire town rather conveniently with your pathetic fundraiser.” Hybern drawled.

“You can’t do this.” Nesta said, moving to stand beside Cassian who had silently begun shaking.

“Not yet I can’t. But once all the valuables have been removed from Rhysand’s house I will certainly give the order to my team of bulldozers.”

“At least give us time to collect our things.” Feyre pleaded, not being able to stand the horror on Rhys’s face.

“Oh no Feyre my dear, I’m afraid I gave you plenty of warnings.” Hybern said, sickly sweet.

Someone moved from within the crowd of businessmen, struggling to get to the front from where Feyre just spoke.

“Feyre?” Tamlin breathed.

Rhys was already in between them, ready to interfere should Feyre give the word.

Feyre smiled softly at Rhys, showing him that she was alright, and having the added benefit of making Tamlin’s face sour further at the sight of him. Feyre finally turned to look at her past lover.

“Why?” Was all she said.

“You know why. I still love you Feyre.”

Feyre shook her head frantically. “You are ruining lives Tamlin. This isn't what you do for love. Don’t you ever think of anyone other than yourself?”

“I was thinking of you.”

“This is no way to win me back. There’s no way I can ever forgive you for this Tamlin.” Feyre practically yelled at him. “Did you think I would love you again after destroying Rhys’s life?” She asked incredulously.

Tamlin open and closed his mouth, unable to think of an intelligent response.

“It’s not too late Tamlin.” Rhys quietly interrupted. “We were friends once.”

Feyre turned to stare at Rhys in shock, but Rhys’s eyes were on Tamlin, studying the warring emotions on his face. For half a moment, Feyre thought Tamlin was going to back off, but then he noticed Feyre’s hand lightly gripping the back of Rhys’s jacket. The way Rhys was angled so that his hand barely brushed Feyre’s thigh.

Tamlin’s face set into unreadable, cold stone. “I could never be friends with a mutt. You can keep Feyre, you’ve probably already tainted her.” Tamlin said in disgust.

Tears of white hot anger burned in Feyre’s eyes as she fully realised what Tamlin had said. She made to move forward and confront him, slap him, gouge his eyes out, whatever she could, but a strong arm gripped her from behind and held her back.

“He’s not worth it, love.” Rhys whispered to her, trying to calm and soothe her. But Feyre was furious. That Tamlin could insult this kind and brilliant man holding her. A man so selfless that he would put his people before his own needs and wants.

She again tried to pull away from Rhys to attack Tamlin who only watched them with eyes narrowed, but was interrupted by Hybern who had been watching everything unfold with cool disinterest.

“As much as I’d love to see Feyre destroy your face Tamlin, I think I’d rather watch my workers destroy Rhys’s home.” Hybern said as he was presented with a final checklist of the last contents emptied from the house.

“I’d like to see you try.” Cassian said, but bodyguards had already anticipated his next move, and Azriel’s, and Rhys’s. Swarms of guards and police tackled the males, a few bravely taking on a hissing Nesta and Amren.

Mor managed to get a few punches in before her arms were handcuffed behind her, but not without her smirking satisfaction at seeing more than two broken noses among the men apprehending her.

Feyre was also grabbed by two guards, arms pinned behind her back painfully by a pair of rough hands, holding her body tightly against his so she could not wriggle free.

On the ground, four men each held down a bloodied Cassian and Azriel, while an impressive six had to pin Rhys down. Seeing Rhys being hit by the guards only made Feyre struggle harder, her arms being held so tightly she thought her shoulder blades would dislocate.

“Release her.” Tamlin said darkly to the guards holding her.

The guards only looked to Hybern for orders.

“Hold her. I don’t want her causing anymore trouble. Besides,” Hybern paused to glance at Rhys, “It will keep him in line.”

The guards squeezed Feyre’s arms in emphasis, making her cry out. Rhys immediately stopped struggling when he saw the tears pooling in her eyes.

“See, now there’s a good dog.” Hybern teased Rhys, crossing to stand before him. The toe of his shining black shoe mere centimetres from Rhys’s nose. “Now you will all watch as I at last get to give the final order.”

Hybern raised an arm as one by one, the bulldozers roared to life around them. His hand held up five fingers, counting down from five, four, three, two, on-

“Stop! Nobody move!’ Came a booming voice.

Feyre turned to see a new group emerge. A bunch of men in black suits charged forward, all looking outraged beyond belief, led by a smiling Elain, Lucien, and to Feyre’s shock, her own father balancing on a cane.

A man with white hair stepped forward, eyes trained on Hybern. "We have reason to believe that this demolition has been operating through various back door deals and intimidation tactics, all highly illegal.”

“With what proof?” Hybern asked smugly.

Feyre’s heart swelled with pride as her father stepped forward, a heavy briefcase in hand. “This proof here. Papers documenting secret meetings and threatening emails, all forwarded to me by my daughter Elain, who was employed by you for some weeks.” Her father stopped to take in Feyre’s state, winking as he said, “Hello Feyre, sorry I’m late.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, so sorry about the length of time between updates! I got swamped by uni and forgot to update this at all, please forgive me. Thanks to all the lovely comments that were left in my absence, none were missed and all were much appreciated x.

“Dad?” Feyre managed to stammer out, gobsmacked as she was by his sudden appearance.

Elain moved closer to hold their father’s arm while smiling back gently at Feyre. “You didn’t think I was doing nothing this whole time did you?” She asked coolly. 

Feyre’s reply was cut off by an enraged Hybern. 

“This is an outrage! Months of planning, investors, workers. What would you have me tell all of them?” He spat at Feyre’s father and his team of lawyers.

“Tell them to make themselves useful and help move these people back into their homes?” One of the men in suits offered.

But Hybern would hear none of it. With a red splotched face from anger, and spit flying from his mouth, he urged nearby workers, who had stopped to watch, to continue working. 

Feyre watched in horror as a bulldozer rumbled to life outside Rhys’s home.

“Stop him!’ Mor cried out, but their would-be saviors were immediately swamped by Hybern’s own team of lawyers who were waving documents in their faces to stop them getting any closer. 

When a group of policemen came over with uneasy glances, they were immediately stopped by Hybern who whispered something in their ears quietly, but just loud enough for Feyre to catch a word here or there, “remember who pays you… repercussions… disgraced.”

The two policemen immediately stood back and stood guard over the workers operating the demolition machines. Feyre looked to Rhys helplessly, but he was just as trapped as her, under six enormous guards. 

Realising that herself and Mor were perhaps the ones most likely to be able to get away from their attackers, she tried to make eye contact with her, but Mor was too busy yelling abuse at the guards holding down Azriel and Cassian, who had begun struggling again at all the commotion. 

Taking a deep breath, Feyre tried to recall the lessons of self-defense that Cassian had given her. When she released her breath, she allowed her body to go limp, sinking towards the floor as if she had fainted.

The guard holding her immediately changed his grip to try and see if she had indeed passed out, and it was at this moment that Feyre chose to lock her feet on the ground, and spring upwards with as much force as she could muster. Her rise brought her into direct contact with the man’s nose and a sharp crack, followed by the man’s bellows, told her that she had successfully broken his nose.

The man let go of her entirely as he cradled his gushing face. Feyre didn’t hesitate to sprint towards the house and the team of men inside bobcats and bulldozers that were surrounding it. 

“GET HER!” Hybern yelled to his men.

But Feyre managed to sprint past all of them in their confusion. Cassian and Azriel whooped as Feyre made for the bulldozer closest to their front porch, but their joy was short lived as they realised she wasn’t heading for the machine at all, but the house.

“Feyre, no!” Rhys cried out, struggling to get free again in his fear as he realised her plan was to bunker down in the house in the hopes that they wouldn’t destroy it. He managed to get an arm loose, throwing off two men in his desperation, until another four jumped on his free arm, just as he had begun to rise to his knees.

“Stupid girl.” Hybern muttered. “Proceed with the plan.” 

“You can’t!” Mor cried out, eyes wide in fear.

“Feyre’s inside, you bastard!” Cassian yelled.

“Orders were to evacuate by 9pm, houses would be destroyed at this time regardless.” Hybern said, voice devoid of any human emotion.

This remark had the team of lawyers and Feyre's father trying to approach Hybern again, but were held back by another group of police.

“This is murder. My daughter is inside that house.” Feyre’s father thundered at Hybern, who chose to ignore him.

Rhys made another attempt to throw his attackers off his back, but a sharp knee to the back had him collapsing once more to the ground. Groaning, he managed to hold his head up enough to stare down Hybern as he ground out, “Please. I will do anything. Give you anything. Just let me go in and get her. Let me get Feyre.”

Hybern looked down at Rhys as if he was no more than a speck of dirt on a new pair of shoes, before raising his hand to give the final order.

The bulldozer moved forward in a blast of angry smoke and whining gears, crushing the pristine grass and splashing through the melted remains of snow. When the tip of its tray just began to touch the wooden banister of front porch, a shout cut above all the noise.

“Hybern! What the hell do you think you’re doing? Call this off now before you kill someone.” Tamlin growled, storming up to Hybern, stopping just centimetres from his face.

“No can do Tamlin. You should have chosen an earlier time to take the high road.” Hybern glared.

“You forget who backed you the most financially for this whole scheme. I can take all that away.” Tamlin said darkly.

“Go ahead.” Hybern laughed. “I have enough funds of my own to do the demolition.”

“But you don’t have enough to pay the workers.” Tamlin said, raising his voice so all the men nearby could hear.

The security guards and policemen all exchanged glances with each other. The demolition crew looked the most angry by this piece of news.

“If you don’t end this now, I’m pulling out officially. And no one will get paid.” Tamlin said smugly.

Hybern glanced around at the workers around him. “Don’t listen to him. You have a job to do, and it will be completed by tonight.” He yelled at them.

But none of the workers seemed too enthused about this latest piece of news. Some were even climbing down from their machines, confusion on their faces.

“Get back to work!” Hybern yelled at them.

One of the closest men who had just left a digger glared at Hybern, “No way. We all saw the girl run inside. We’re not in the business of killing girls.”

A stream of workers flooded past them, glaring at Hybern as they left.

“This isn’t over yet.” Hybern muttered under his breath. Turning back to the house, he quietly began making his way across the lawn.

Everyone was too stunned by Tamlin helping them that no one reacted quickly enough when Hybern approached the main bulldozer, its engine still purring idly.

“What is he…” Muttered Amren, trying to get a better look.

“No. Let me up! Stop him!” Rhys gasped from the ground. The guards holding him let him up into a kneeling position but still kept a tight grip on him. “Hybern!” He called out in desperation.

Suddenly the bulldozer roared to life once more.

Now everyone was struggling again. 

“Can anyone see Feyre?” Cassian yelled to them, all of them searching frantically through the windows for a glimpse of their friend.

“FEYRE GET OUT NOW!” Rhys roared as the Bulldozer crashed through the steps on the front porch in a shower of splinters.

The others also began yelling for Feyre, or at Hybern to stop, but the man was crazed as he continued to drive the bulldozer forward into the foundations of the house. Once one of the walls began to warp and topple with a groan, Hybern pulled the machine back in order to avoid falling debris, as the entire house began to crash down.

The sound of smashing glass and the creaking of wood as it was ripped apart filled their ears in a deafening roar. The cloud of dust following the destruction was so large it enveloped the group on the other side of the street in one dusty wave. 

Nesta was holding Elain as she sobbed, their father on their knees beside them.

“It can’t be.” Azriel was saying as he shook his head in disbelief.

Mor looked to her cousin, who remained on the ground, despite the lack of guards holding him anymore. Unshed tears filled his eyes as she knelt beside him, her shoulder just brushing his enough to feel him trembling underneath his fine suit. Mor cautiously reached out hold Rhys’s hand as she watched a single tear leave a streak down his dust coated face. 

“Rhys…” She began. Unable to think of anything to say.

Mor felt Amren approach them but Rhys suddenly leapt to his feet. “We have to look for her.” He said hoarsely. 

The others looked to each other. Seeing the utter wreckage of the house, they knew there was no way a person inside it could have survived. But Rhys was adamant as he stormed up to the house.

The guards who had been holding Rhys were now wrestling a struggling Hybern out of the bulldozer, while a shocked Tamlin watched on, face pale, and eyes unseeing.

Rhys approached the mess of timber, shifting it aside in an impressive show of strength. “Feyre? Can you hear me?” He began calling.

The others followed suit, calling out to her and hoping against all odds that they would hear a response. 

Several minutes ticked by with the group having nothing to show for it but a handful of splinters. Every time a shift in the rubble would make them pause expectantly, but it was only caused by someone else digging nearby, resulting in a landslide of debris somewhere else.

Rhys’s hands were bloody, and his clothes were ripped when he suddenly became still. Mor looked over in confusion. She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong but Rhys held up a hand to silence her. After a few moments they all began listening. At first there was nothing. Then the sound of movement from beyond the mound of debris they were searching in. The sound of wood being shifted, and glass sliding to the ground.

Rhys’s face lit up. “Feyre?” He called, cupping his hands to his mouth.

A moment’s delay before an out of breath, far away response followed. “Rhys?” The voice undoubtedly belonging to Feyre.

A shudder wracked Rhys’s body as tears began flowing down his face again. Cassian thought he could see Rhys silently mouthing to himself "Thank god, thank god", over and over.

“Where are you?” Rhys finally called back.

“At the back. I’m trying to climb back over.” Came her response.

Rhys looked at them all in disbelief. “You’re okay?”

“Of course.” Came her breathy response.

Rhys began eagerly climbing the pile before him, scattering debris in his wake. The others followed but couldn’t match Rhys’s breakneck pace as he climbed practically vertically up the wreckage to reach the other side.

His hand had just reached the epicentre of the pile of debris, piled several metres above the ground when he saw a small, dirty hand appear from the other side. Smiling he reached out to grasp it, eliciting a small gasp of shock that he knew belonged to Feyre.

Pulling himself to the top he stared down into her smiling face. His eyes quickly looked her over to ensure that she was indeed okay, and while she was dirty, her beautiful dress ripped to shreds, and blood spattered her hair from the guard she had hit, she seemed fine. 

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Rhys said, trying to go for a casual tone, trying not to show how much of a panic he had just been in.

Feyre smiled up at him, which quickly turned into a cough as small piles of dust fell down onto her, and allowed him to pull her up and over a wooden beam separating them. The second her feet landed on a piece of wooden frame, it immediately gave way, and Rhys had to pull her back up to where he was standing. Leaning against the beam he tilted her face towards him and leaned down breathlessly to kiss her. 

The kiss tasted of sweat and dirt but after the horror they had both just experienced, nothing could have felt better. The exhaustion from the night hit her and Feyre’s legs gave out as Rhys gently lowered them onto a stack of beams, pulling her into his lap and cradling her to his chest. Feyre wound her fingers through his dusty hair, gently tracing the tear tracks on his face. 

Rhys pulled away to look at her, hands cupping her face gently as if he wasn’t sure she was still real. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again.” He said smoothing down her hair.

Feyre smiled, kissing the tip of his nose sweetly. “I wasn’t in the house.”

Rhys stared at her, one eyebrow raised in a question.

“I just went in for this, then I went out the back door and into the yard. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have worried you like that.” She said, reaching above them for something she must have dropped when Rhys had pulled her over. 

Wordlessly, she handed Rhys a thick black book. “You went back in for a book?” Rhys said, his voice only an octave higher than what it should have been in what was probably the closest tone of anger he had ever used with her, when he recognised what he was holding. 

He flipped the book open to a photo of himself as a baby in a fuzzy blue onesie, his mother holding him with a smiling face. More pages showed him with his sister, being watched carefully by his mother and father. He flipped the page to see his first day of school, then a few pages later his sister joined him on the page for her first day. Him asleep on the couch while his sister was drawing on his face in crayon, a laugh frozen on her young face. And the last pages were full of pictures of Mor, Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and himself.

“You went back in for my photo album?” He asked, voice shaking.

Feyre looked down self consciously. “It’s the only photos you had of your family. Something like that can’t be replaced.”

Rhys stared at her in wonder, reaching down to kiss her again when a voice interrupted them.

“If you guys weren’t perched on top of a very unstable surface right now, I’d allow this to go on a bit longer. But as it is, I think we’d all be a little bit more comfortable if you came down now!” Mor called to them.

Feyre laughed and looked down at Mor, who stood on the ground, surrounded by their friends and Feyre’s family. 

“It’s rather peaceful up here. Might stay for a bit longer.” Rhys smiled down at his cousin.

Cassian laughed, “Don’t make me come up and get you.”

Feyre’s father was smiling at them too, but somewhat quizzically at Rhys, as if trying to understand where he had come from.

Rhys squeezed Feyre’s hand as he pulled her to her feet. “Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, thanks for sticking out my absence and reading this fic. I am sad to say this will be the last chapter however, I still enjoy writing fics and am open to writing more, and I am especially open to suggestions as I'm not the most creative person haha. Thanks again for reading x.

Feyre looked up at the sound of the coffee shop door opening, a smile already on her face as she saw her friends enter.

Cassian grinned and winked at her as he walked by, settling himself on a couch already occupied by Nesta who huffed but settled for his arm to rest along the back of the couch behind them.

Azriel also smiled at Feyre, placing a small chocolate on the counter, as was their current way of greeting each other when visiting the other at work. Feyre had figured out that Azriel had a real sweet tooth and loved candy and he was happy to repay her in kind. 

Mor came out of the storeroom with a half eaten cookie in her hand to join an uncomfortable looking Lucien as he sat opposite Cassian and Nesta, Elain sitting sweetly to his right.

Mor and Elain had gotten surprisingly comfortable with each other as Elain had decided to ask for work at the coffee shop alongside Feyre to help out, seeing as all their friends had had to move into Mor and Amren’s house while the townhouse was being rebuilt. Together, her and Mor had added a flower section to the store to both improve it visually and customers could buy any flowers they liked to take home. 

Similarly, Amren and Nesta got along famously, with Nesta picking up work in Amren’s jewelry store. Feyre could still remember Nesta asking her if she was awake late one night in the room they shared at Mor’s, with Nesta quietly telling her that Amren had asked her to be a business partner and that she was going to work hard so their family wouldn’t have to rely on Feyre anymore, or Rhys for that matter.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Rhys materialized in front of the counter, a crooked grin already in place. Sweeping some stray hair behind her ear, Rhys leant over and kissed her sweetly on the cheek. He kept her company while she prepared some drinks for their friends, asking her how her day was, before helping her to take them all out when they were ready.

Feyre was about to go back to the counter, when pleading from her friends to sit down and drink with them stopped her. Rhys gently grabbed her hand and forced her to share the obviously made for one person armchair he was occupying. Laughing, he pulled out a pencil from behind her ear and whispered in her ear, “Work time’s over”.

“You work too hard Feyre, the store will be fine for a few minutes.” Mor added, indicating the mostly empty room. 

Sighing, Feyre settled more comfortably against Rhys as he tucked her into his side. The comforting smell of him washing over her. 

For a few weeks Feyre had shared a room at Mor’s with her sisters, while Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel shared a second room. Amren and Mor kept their own rooms, and Lucien slept up in the attic. Recently however, Feyre had been sleeping in the living room, sharing a very comfortable couch with Rhys. Neither had planned these sleeping arrangements. Mor and Amren had come down one morning to find the two had fallen asleep there from the night before when they were watching a film, and from then on they had slept there every night. 

None of their friends had commented on it too much, except for Cassian who made very loud and pointed attempts to avoid sitting on their couch whenever he could. 

When Feyre wasn’t at work, she was at college. The arts scholarship she had been offered was finally being put to good use and it made Rhys so proud to see Feyre enjoying the challenge, and made him laugh whenever she came home covered in paint. A small section of Mor’s house had been cleared by Rhys so he could hang up Feyre’s latest art project, and no half-hearted complaining from Mor could ever get him to take it down once it was up.

Rhys had insisted she needn’t work as much as she was if she needed the time to study, but after the boredom of living with Tamlin for months with no occupation, Feyre found she enjoyed keeping herself busy. 

Rhys found plenty of ways to keep busy also. He had his work cut out for him, helping to rebuild sections of Velaris that had been destroyed by Hybern. He mostly oversaw the rebuilding efforts and talked to developers, but more than several times he, Cassian, and Azriel had returned from the neighborhood covered in plaster dust and sweat. 

Most of the reconstruction was being funded from Hybern’s own companies and investments after the court ruled in favor of turning them over to the community he had tried to illegally destroy. Hybern had been ordered to serve jail time but Rhys had told Feyre he was sure he would find a way to get out sooner rather than later.

Tamlin had narrowly avoided charges himself, discreetly depositing a large sum of money into Rhys’s bank account in order to help with the rebuilding efforts and as a way to avoid Rhys’s lawyers. Tamlin had also mailed them a note addressed to Feyre which still remained locked away, unopened, in a drawer, for a day when Feyre didn’t feel like she’d set it on fire the second she opened it.

Feyre had been listening absentmindedly to one of Mor’s long-winded stories when she felt Rhys almost imperceptibly tense up as he raised his cup of coffee to his mouth. With narrowed eyes, Feyre watched him take a small sip, barely tasting it, then quickly place it back down on a nearby table. Come to think of it, in the past twenty minutes, Feyre couldn't remember Rhys taking a sip more than twice.

“Rhys, dear,” Feyre began sweetly, getting his attention. One well groomed eyebrow raised itself as he looked down to her. “One of my favourite plants died recently, you know the one, by your usual chair. It was getting plenty of sunlight, and I had Elain taking care of it and watering it, you know how good she is with plants. Very mysterious that it died… You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”

A faint blush rose on the tips of his ears as his eyes refused to meet hers. Nearby Cassian snorted into his coffee.

Huffing, Feyre went to rise to her feet, face blazing with indignation. A strong arm wrapped around her waist however, pulling her back down into her seat. Rhys chuckled in her ear softly but Feyre didn’t see the funny side of this particular joke. 

“Let me go!” She struggled weakly against him, pouting her lip sullenly. “If you didn’t like my coffee you should have just told me, not continue to let me make a fool of myself for months! And the rest of you,” Feyre turned her burning gaze to the group, who all quickly looked down into their cups. "You all knew didn't you?"

“Feyre, I’m sorry. I know I should have told you but the truth is… I don’t really drink coffee. I prefer tea, truth be told.” Rhys said apologetically.

“Then why didn’t you say so?” Feyre cried out in frustration. 

Embarrassed, Feyre stopped struggling and instead turned her face into Rhys’s shoulder to escape her friends knowing eyes, and hands covering their mouths to stifle their laughs.

“Feyre your coffees taste fine! It’s just that Rhys is a big baby who can’t tolerate the bitter taste.” Mor teased her cousin affectionately.

“Then why did you come in here so often, asking for coffee?” Came Feyre’s muffled reply.

At this, Cassian roared with laughter. “Isn’t it obvious? He just wanted an excuse to talk to you.” He snickered. 

At this, Feyre peeked up at Rhys to find his blush had quietly crept along his fine cheekbones as he gave her a shy smile. 

Feyre cocked her head quizzically, “Then why didn’t you just talk to me? Why pretend to like coffee?”

“Because you terrified him.” Azriel replied quickly, grinning. 

“And there goes my reputation.” Rhys muttered to himself, throwing Azriel a dark look. 

Feyre laughed at the idea of Rhys feeling too intimidated by a girl to talk to her. It was too comical to picture Rhys going to his friends for advice about how to talk to her.

Reaching up, she pecked him delicately on the cheek, right where his blush was deepest. Rhys’s eyes softened as he looked back down at her in surprise.

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Yes. But don’t lie to me like that again.” Feyre said, accenting her seriousness with a light flick on his nose.

Rhys laughed before cupping her face and pulling her in for a kiss, much to the pretend disgust of their friends, Cassian mimed passing a bucket to Amren so she could vomit into it. 

Pulling away, Feyre smiled wryly. 

“What?” Rhys asked her.

“Some part owner you are.” She began smugly. When Rhys only cocked an eyebrow again in question she continued, “Doesn’t even realise we sell tea here as well as coffee.”

This time it was Rhys’s turn to bury his face in Feyre’s shoulder as his friends howled with laughter around them.


End file.
